My Brain Is Off

today.  I will probably need a sticky
note to remind me to breathe.  I bounce
from misunderstanding to miscommunication
and back.  Apparently, my tongue has gone
on strike.  I am tripping over
my own thoughts, spouting
uncensored sarcasm at every corner.  Come back,
my beautiful ability for bodily control.  I long to paint
verbal pastiches across polygonal planes of muted white. 
A complete portrait of comprehension.  Instead, I hang
here waiting to remember if I am supposed to
hit the nail
or the frame.

A Representation [of Obliteration]

Tonight, thought is a landmine.  And I am
a desert made of glass.  Too clear,
I see the ticking.  Tolling.  It’s time to crack
or crumble.  I open (my eyes) to your wor[l]ds.
The spark is always there.  Catching.  (Me?)
Such a pretty light[ed time bomb].  So subtle.
Our destruction is epic[ally underplayed].