persona non grata

I sit nameless
sightless thoughtless
a blank white space
where  my  brain should be,
my  body free of
all constraints
floats against the
ceiling, defies the
grasp  of gravity

how  did I be this way
trying to navigate reality
with all my senses
cut away,  a renegade?
I can  only use my ears
to keep contact with the ground,
retain my  life alive and real, hear
the crackle of my soul's fuse
burn:  an uneasy braille of sound

I am  sealed in this alone-ness
may  never find the me
far down  like an enemy -
my  heart's belly takes the strain
I feel the ice groan as it
foams  then freezes
skims  my  soul
casts a field of frost
erects its own south pole

I may  never heal at all
I may  never break free from
such  diamond insanity
impossible to chip away
unfacet the real me
deep  down
intact and strong

sealed-in somewhere  all alone
glazed-over and
coldly glassed: a kernel
frozen too  far in to reach,
resurrect, resuscitate

iced-over like a frosted peach
I may always be alone
I may even stand erect
but it still makes me a clown:
persona non grata painted
red and frozen stiff - dead

long before the dawn comes down:
outwith the reaching fingers of
any kindly thaw
that could make flesh warm.
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