Caught in the Loop

I stood in line, scanning the same damn thing,

each beep an insult, mocking my state.

The self-checkout lights blink, each refusal a sting,

a moment of flow caught in digital fate.

The queue behind me, restless and tight,

sighs like weighted breaths weigh on my back.

Time crawls to a stop under glaring bright light,

each pause feels like life’s little crack.

The red glare blinks; I’m lost in this space,

a machine judging patience, its rhythm askew.

A dance gone wrong, an uncertain embrace—

yet here I remain, caught between two.