I Melt Down

Self Portrait

I do not feel.

I melt down.

And the heat makes me sweat

All over my face and body.

It slowly pools beneath me,

cleansing the toxins and

soaking through the mattress –

before dripping on the slanted floor.

It seeps outside towards the horizon

out the cracked window onto the earth.

Another nighttime implosion;

a penance for reckless dream emoting.

I try to capture and hold them;

show up for the final exam

or work an endless puzzle shift.

But I go nowhere,

just trip up and

fall back into consciousness.

I do not emit

this forcefield -

softly glowing and enigmatic

only for the sake of masking,

it shields from a recessive condition

of external disconnection.

It is regressing.

This is me.

I do not feel like you do.

I melt -

way down.