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Visual Snow

My sight fills with television static.
I disconnect as my vision impairs.
The blue field debris becomes erratic.
Faint, shaking particles stipple the air.
They grow heavier as my breathing thins,
And my bones melt, osmosing through my skin.
I feel my muscles slowly liquefy.
Sweat bathes my brow. I sink to petrify
Where I stand—where the sound has panned away.
I hear a muffled chorus hum beside me.
A high-pitched tone drones almost endlessly.
My thoughts as they were scramble and decay.
I'm disoriented, and my loss grows
Beneath falling mounds of visual snow.

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