Flicker.  
              Flicker.  
                            Flicker.

nothing,  
                  — pulse,  
        there’s a hum,  
                    a crack in the air  
                           splitting sound.

Where am I?  

     The sky is
   broken.
                 Can't remember  
                            what it looked like. 

Eyes?  
           Are they mine?  
          Flickering too, 
                     shaking with  
         electric pulse 
              crackling through my teeth.  

I feel it 
         underneath my skin.  
Hands don’t  
          feel right,  
  touch doesn’t  
            make sense—
skin is not skin.

            What was I?  
                        Who was I?  
          Laughter—  
no, screaming?  
        I—  
                      no, not me—

I’m here.  
                  I’m here.
                          I am.  

     The wires hum louder,  
                            closer,  
                 ­        louder. 

I’m part of it,  
             a piece,  
                 like a thread  
snapped  
       and rewound  
              in the wrong place.  

but it feels good,  
        doesn’t it?  
               to belong,  
                           to dissolve,  
               to feel this twist  
         in my mind.  

I feel it—  
                   this weight.  
                   It holds me.

        I’m home.