Screen-lit stare scars my retinas.
Movie magic plays over and over
in my skull, just like the film reel.
My brain pops like
the buttery kernels at
the concession stand.
My feet stick to the floor
and my body sinks into the seat
like a home-made electric chair.
Engaged for two and a half hours
of slow mental breakdown
Dim lights distort images,
creating hollowed beasts
of playful things.
This elongated room
like I can just break from my seat
and make a run for it into the film.
I smell moments of happiness
that rot and transform
into a slow stench.
The film ends and
Where have I been?