It’s not that life has been torn apart
Or that I have forgotten who I am.
It’s just that things are a little foggier now
My thoughts a little more slippery
My skin feels cooler to the touch
When I look out onto the grey water
And listen to the rain
I feel like I am living in a fishbowl,
Trapped in this house
Watching from the inside
the untouchable mundanity of my surroundings.
Between everything else and me there is a sheet of glass
bends the light in just a way
To make heights seem higher
And eyes seem wider.
I am floating and the days run together.
But it is difficult to care about things like that.
I can’t seem to shut my eyes when I sleep