Screen saviour

I stare at the computer screen at my desk.
The Windows 98 screensaver stares back.

My skin is grey, my clothes are grey, my sandwich is grey. My soul is grey. I am a grey space in a greyer space.

No one notices me staring.

No one notices me stare through the hyper blue skies coaxing me to work.

No one notices I am holding down once kaleidoscopic dreams.  Now the kaleidoscope can’t spin or change direction.

Stuck.  Like my world.
Stopped changing.

Chrysalis stomach knots fearfully flutter, as I forget how to break through. How I used to see blue skies like the one on my screen saver. How I used to know so many shades of blue. How the top of cloud can shine so perfectly golden before the skies turn pink. How kaleidoscopic skies have existed. How to enjoy a moment of seeing their face lit up in the light of a sunset.

How I fear I cannot break through this.
How I fear I cannot remember how.

How to log off and stop saving screens. Stop staring at screens. Stop saving dreams.