Psychosis

My body is electrified—
live wire in a puddle.

I lie—

"yes,
everyone inhabits
their body."

I do not—
there is a schism
going on.
Soul peeling its skin
from the membrane
of the holding cell.

There is no way to explain
phantom limbs moving
unattached to a
chandelier torso—

it's too complicated.

Hands move by their
own accord—
hovering, flighty—

wide-awake.

The physics of neurons
pulsing against currents
to animate
are lost on me—

I've escaped to a place
where everyone is sane

& the tigers waiting
outside the doorjamb
don't exist.

Where the overwhelming
loneliness of the leaves'
painful death
never dulls me.

The tether of my body
is too frayed to keep me
how I used to be.

I am learning a new landscape.