Dissociative

I wake and stare into the blackness of myself
hands searching in the darkness
staring into the space where my face must be.
Every breath is an echo of myself from far away
and the fear seeps into the back of my head,
a mindless panic.
My body is alien.
A living thing without a heartbeat or a soul.
And the touch of my skin frightens me -
it's cold and strange in the dark.
I can feel my flesh disappearing into itself;
a soft, slow collapse, like quicksand
and it makes me violently sick.
Ragged breaths sink into my veins, to sleep.
and I feel so peaceful, so ready for death.
Tears no longer fall under the hollow of the moon,
I sit still.
Restless words move under my skull
and fall into decay.