S(hr)unken into the polyester sea,
Just South of the TV,
I'm free.
Nodding to a muted query,
Rotting at the core.

Rusted silver on the table,
Emptied barrel proves I'm stable,
Life feels like a dreamy fable,
Not one muscle sore.

Freckles and hairs wait for a train,
Whose tracks I've laid to ease my pain,
Whose tracks I lay from vein to vein,
My tool belt on the floor.

Anxious commuters itch and crawl,
Ignite my routine twitch and drawl,
With which my soul they do enthrall,
And send me into war.

Mind and body disconnected,
Mind and body both infected,
Somewhere I can't be detected,
Nowhere anymore.