Dissociative Egg

Dissociation:

a home constructed by the amygdala.

An isolated illusion of distance and

lack of discernment.

Where does the mind stop and the body begin?

How does one speak

if they lose track of listening?

Fear resides where there is freedom,

and the home of dissociation

provides the most freedom:

no walls,

no beds,

no doors,

no mind,

no body,

no reality.

A vacant synaptic gap

between society and insanity.

Where one can

do whatever they want

or simultaneously, feel so debilitated,

that they can't do anything

ever again--

like an old, fried egg

just waiting

to be taken off the hot, humid pan

and moved onto a placid paper plate.

But dissociation's home has no walls,

no plate, no comfort.

So, the egg is never taken off,

forever frying,

sweating, and simmering.

Watching the world turn

likes its crusty sides swirling in

the olive oil sun.

Waiting--

wishing that

it never left its shell,

because what good is a home

if it does not have any walls?