this "thing"

lif Please keep I'm mind this is fiction

This “thing,” that is happening around me,

It has become a blanket, both wet and dry.

It neither warms me, nor comforts me,

As if, I've left me here to die.

Small things, upset me now,

In a way never before.

Noise my refrigerator makes,

No longer, ranks in the top four.

People have started looking more often,

Is this a carnival tent?

The time our moon spends, making it around the earth

Is now different, because it is bent.

Twenty four hours a day, a full onslaught,

Of this new audio mayhem.

Vibration and sound, noise of every type,

Someone must have made them.

Now, no more than a light touch.

Seems to be growing, all the time.

Distance now, is what I seek

good tequila with lime.

There won't be any coconut huts,

To eat on this island, you'll need a spear

Pure madness is now upon me,

that is what I fear.