a meltdown
emotionally cataclysmic
without feeling anything
aka farce

and the world turns
after a pause to reverence
the deceased
the world turns
though it never stopped
because we are not at the center

invisible but not as the axis
because it turns without us
round and round we go
I go,
type until
I feel
peach fuzz
atop my head
that I may
transfer power back to myself
then back to Him
for I know not
the origins of meltdowns
only the prescription
held under my tongue
until nurses
seeking to nurse me back to health
turn their backs
so that the sickness may keep them close



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