Sometimes
I need to disconnect
Shut the doors
And draw the curtains
Through which the world watches me
A few minutes, hours, days
With the windows closed
Vainly
I worry that the world needs me
That it's clawing at my closed door
Calling me, needing me to open up
But really
The world moves on
It keeps spinning
It keeps moving
Without me
The air outside my door
Is still, quiet
Anxious little shadows
Figments of my imagination
Embodiments of my anxiety
They creep under my door
They tell me to return
To open the curtains, windows
Sometimes I do as they bid
I throw open the door, expecting someone
But seeing no one
Other times I tell them
That I wish to be alone
And sometimes they even listen
They'll slink back out under my door
And leave me be
Not often
But sometimes
And when they do
I am alone
Not lonely, but alone
And it is peaceful

do you dissociate too?

do you find yourself floating in space?
not on a gentle cloud or on the wings of a soaring eagle,
but on my own, supported by just air as i lose my head.

do you find yourself underwater?
not drowning but not breathing either.
the water rushes in my ears and the voices beside me are muffled
so i am left on my own with only my thoughts to accompany me.

do you find yourself gliding above ground?
i work through motions and play like a puppet on strings.
my feet never touch the ground while my head lolls on my shoulders.

my ears are plugged, my hands are clasped to still them.
the noise of the whole world is attacking me but i cannot decipher a word.
do you dissociate too?
please don't tell me i'm the only one.

Existence is fallow
Upon the sheaths of grey
Transparent in the slides
Omnipresent crawling
In with no other
Inflated into, frozen in
Panes of glass
Brazen ice tell me your name
Internal tread on jags
He in his own bloating
Of crashing white sun on
The surface plain.

lately I’ve been feeling like I live on another plane of existence. I have left my body and I’m watching over myself as I fail at being a functioning person. I take four hour naps every day and don’t wake up until noon and I’m left up at night screaming into the void that I exist because as much as I know that I am alive I don’t feel like I’m existing. or maybe I just don’t want to exist. maybe I’m tired of these day to day tribulations that come with being an adult, maybe I want to exist as a child forever when everything is bright and new and nothing hurts except bruised elbows and scraped knees. maybe I’m being nostalgic for a place that I don’t even know exists. maybe I lost my innocence too early to know what being a child feels like. maybe I lost myself too early to know what being a person feels like.

words elude my breaking sight,
dream, and dreams of forms
bear might.
built and forged upon the light, now -
it fails, consumed by night.

aloof the babe at mother breast,
forged a world, upon its flesh.
lines and form, subdued in sense,
amorphous matter - cracked and rent.

are true the words, which mask seeming?
or void held gaze, and lack of dreaming?
a man, a man, in restless slumber,
context born of lust and hunger.

can we see, a world past sight?
strip away the egos might?
a star, a star, throws out its light,
grasping for
the endless night.