The Edge of Disconnect

The cracks on the ceiling study

the lines on my face

I lie on threadbare sheets

wondering

if I’m awake

or sleeping

or dying

Maybe you’re dying too

Dreaming of existence

beyond the confines of

my mind

my bed

this room

this body

Ceiling fan shadows slice

my figure into sections

Dark stripes erase

half of my form

Half of my life

lost, waiting

for green lights

for daylight

for darkness

for weekends

Here my body ages

while my mind regresses

Days of the week

lose identity

Rounding them up

we christen them only

today

tomorrow

and someday

Mankind tumbles

through the day

the month

the year

solitary and numb

No longer holding hands

We hold our breath

while letting loose

our tongues

Rushing to judgment

Rushing to violence

Rushing our loved ones

to hospitals

to die

Admonishing “patience”

the word too oft spoken

empty of meaning

a buzzing of flies

Earth spins apathetic

as we teeter together

Six feet apart and

holding the line

Clinging to memories

to life as we knew it

Clawing back

from the edge of

disconnect