of dark clouds hanging over
me. It’s raining black depression
and horror in every corridor. As I walk across
my lawn the grass cuts my feet. Every blade

a steely knife with rows and rows
of teeth. I can’t wait for night when I
can fall asleep to stop the agony. It pains me
when I'm awake. I act mechanically,

as a drone in a swarm of bees. I eat, but
the food is plastic. And it only fills my
stomach with acid. I hear things people

speak. But it does not compute. It’s mangled
as a buffalo after a lion sinks his jaws
in. I look at the day. But the colors
are grey as a seal and have no appeal. I scream in

silence, as if I’m in a padded room. I’m dust you can
sweep up with a broom. My limbs hang
loose. I’m flat as a paper doll you can rip in
a fell swoop. Even the horizon looks rusty and droops.