Chronic Diorama

the world plays on a projector reel  

scenes unfold outside my aching body  

i am stuck behind this glass pane  

watching life move like a museum exhibit  

some days the colors blur too bright  

other days they fade into gray silence  

people’s faces bloom and wilt again  

and i can only sit still and witness  

my limbs feel too heavy to belong  

my chest an echo of distant laughter  

each breath a reminder of this wall  

spun from time and a restless fog  

yet even here i sift for light traces  

in this diorama painted with fragility  

i build a sanctuary from slow hours  

knowing stillness too can learn to breathe