Dead Dimension

There is a dead dimension where I sometimes go
That's inside walls and wooden holes.
My oversize head just won't fit so
It feels like a melon turning in a vice grip.
Everything around you takes a different shape
And no matter how hard you reach it's two feet away.
The constant brightness blinds your eyes like
A non-stop stab of lightning on moonless night,
And the persistent shrieking of a half-dead bird
Will give no comfort in pattern or tone.
There's no telling the difference between drowning or drought
If you can't even tell your toe from your mouth.
But don't try to reach for anything solid,
Because what's in the air will keep you away.