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

this body

Watching from the inside

the untouchable mundanity of my surroundings.

Between everything else and me there is a sheet of glass

That distorts,

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