Dissociation

Apathy.
Stuck: muscles burn,
Craving movement.

Blinks: sliding water
To inadequately lubricate
Human cameras.
In tempo
With passing seconds.

Vigorously lounging:
She is glue,
Not self.

Trauma.
Past.

She eats bite sized memories,
To stop looking at them.

Stale crackers.
Old clothes.
Her body stays still:
Mind elsewhere.

She waits for a kiss
From Prince Charming,
Her cat,
To pull her from dissociation.

A flick: her finger.
Revived.
Breath slides out,
And glides in,
And back.

Present.
Easing to seated.

“I exist”

Tears soak her cheeks,
Her muscles releasing tension
Through streams from her eyes.

“Feel, experience, process.”

The corners of her mouth float.

“I am sad.”
“Now I know why.”