This Brain-Damaged Corridor

Essential molecules of my identity
Erode and drift away
As I find myself growing more apathetic
Day by day by day.

I frantically search panoramic vistas
For another landing strip.
Putting one foot in front of the other
Despite the horror of the trip.

I block out all of my emotions
Including the ones I want to sing.  
Maybe I’ll rip off all of my scabs
When I’m competent to feel again.

I remember the shower scene
From a simulacrum slasher flick.
The meaninglessness of the pristine—
The remake: An inferior duplicate.

My personality is disorganized,
In a walking state of disorder.
Contact with reality is impaired
In my schizophrenic, brain-damaged corridor.