Break

You walk down the sidewalk

and birds are chirping. 

The sky is clear for once, 

let’s say,

and the temperature is

light-jacket-comfortable.

The sun is shining brightly. 

 

You walk along, and 

it feels so 

sudden—

vertigo—

falling.

You are falling through

the hollow Earth and

you can hear the distant

careening of your derailed

trains of thought 

(now colliding)

and birds

are chirping

and the sun is shining so brightly.

 

You are walking

(Aren’t you?)

along

you are fighting

the rising tide 

of paranoid panic

climbing its way up from

your stomach (it has

reached your throat),

and they are chirping,

a chorus of clamoring 

attention-seekers in your 

head. They say you 

laughs. Where

are 

you?

It feels like the walls are

collapsing, or maybe your

lungs, or maybe your

head alone. Whose voice

is that? (Is it yours?)

The sun is (Answer me) shining

brightly—

 

You are trying to walk,

but everything is so 

loud inside

everything is so

goddamn dangerous.

The birds are laughing at you,

Your nails are sharp

against your face

(I wonder what it looks

like beneath my skin?).

It is like staring into the abyss,

it is like staring into the eyes

of an oncoming truck and 

the brakes have gone out

in your head

and it is crashing forward 

and it will not stop

They will not stop

(My god, it is so cold

today) It feels like too much.

It feels like nothing at all.

It feels like twitchy inconsistent

motion. It feels like

the red silence of a falling asteroid

 

The sun is shining brightly.