I am so far from myself, that I can hardly see.
My eyes blur, and my head numbs, I change to thinking from my centre and knowing through my mouth.
They are the only parts that stay unmoving.
This room is the one that has always been here, I am sure.
Square with a bend through the middle. The lights vibrate across the ceiling, so loudly. I think they want new light bulbs.
The pattern in the couch is writhing, and grasping outwards, sickly brown tendrils.
"Don't go near it dear".
I am glad that I chose to sit in this chair. It is black and empty, nothing wriggles and if you ask it nicely it will let you stand. But the clamouring of the upholstery is giving me a stomachache. I need to leave.
I open my mouth and words saunter casually towards the faces.
"I think I will take a shower".
Yes, I got that right. That is the way it is done, yes
I feel proud for knowing, I am good at this.
Standing, and the floor hurtles upwards. It's ok, it's only teasing.
Like Mother says "don't react, don't react, they're only looking for a reaction, don't react and they'll go away". So I walk slowly, poised. You'd scarcely be able to tell that it caught me off balance.
I play the shower game, icy, hot, icy, hot, changing rapidly, burning and cooling.
Fill my mouth up and idly wonder what it would be like to drown.
Sink to the bottom with closed lids and lips, lean my head again the glass.
I am outside and it's raining, I close my hands against my ears, press gently and let go. It sounds like thunder.
Open my eyes to let out the tears, and red runs toward the drain, and oh god what have I done this time.
"Oh god", a soft cry to a deity I am unsure of.
And if I told you this, called it a dream,
would you love me still?