1. 00:17 17th Aug 2010

    Tags: my poetry

    state of mind

    The neighbors dissolve first. Despite my hand-ringing, my pacing, my peeking through the blinds, their faces blur first. They can’t hear my screams. The person on the phone dissolves second. What? What? Are you okay? What are you doing? Why are you acting that way? They’re talking to someone else about something else; when I see them for dinner tomorrow, they’ll tell me about this crazy person they heard on the phone the other day - they’ll never connect the sand grains to see the castle. He dissolves next - his broad frame in the hallway becomes shadowy, surreal, and his jabs become flails, like a toddler’s first fight in the sandbox. I concentrate on the chips in my nails and count backwards from one hundred. I try to get past ninety, but I can’t; they keep coming forward, asking me question, are you okay what are you doing are you okay what are you doing are you okay what are you doing are you okay what are you doing and I squeeze my fists and scream until they dissolve and I can count the numbers again.