"TV Brain"

My brain is a television 

and my eyes are the screen 

I’ve been relayed a message 

more minacious than it seems. 

A signal has been sent to my head 

before I can change to a clearer channel 

Connection is poor, I’ve been misled 

the snow blowing through feels like gravel. 

Thoughts pour vigorously through me 

like distorted movie scenes on a DVR 

But I can’t decipher a single scene 

except the ones where I’m in a car. 

I squint through an impenetrable barrier 

a kind that’s innocuous, yet I still wince  

I play both the audience and the actor 

watching from afar as I plummet another inch. 

I often wish the universe would let me know 

how I got into such a perplexing pinch. 

But I lost the remote quite some time ago 

and have only had two drained batteries since.