Brain Matter

Dissociation smears his presence onto the walls of my room.

Now difficult to see where the door begins,

where to escape.

He comes back around to ensure that I have made no effort to find myself,

to get a grasp on my brain.

Instead, I imagine sticking my most frail finger into the canal of my ear, 

reaching in to squeeze the gray oozing matter resting within my skull. 

The squelching fat and water, excreting from between my fingers like a lump of soft playdough.

No thoughts or feelings left,

Just the absolute discomfort of having pure emptiness inside my head.

And this, 

This is what it feels like to be me.