NaPoWriMo #15 - The comfort of endless scrutiny

The comfort of endless scrutiny

Occasional birds snap my eyes across a sterile white-out sky
I see through high-set windows. This room is monotony,
rows of bottles with labelled content and goggles
reflecting strip-light white.

A clatter brings me back and we are driven to sudden words
though it is nothing that will stick. My memories
are like the distant windows: so far above the day-to-day
they seem experimental, avant-garde.

What I will remember are days like these flayed bodies
in exacting standards of sterility, dreams of white-walled rooms
and so many little pieces of thought, gathered
in a bleak and chemical silence.