And as the blank air moves before my eyelids,
My mind is pounding , crippling me to know.
Memories wont form-they are shielded.
Feelings are absent form these fingertips.
A prickle takes over this dead flesh-
Thoughts get sucked in and thrown up.
Sound is distant and so are my eyes.
A string dancing though teal thorns-
I bite my mouth and it doesn’t quiver.
And hours will pass before my lips-
And days will leave beneath my nails-
Through the mirror I can not feel.
Rubber though glass- it will not burn.

 
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