"From the ceiling"

I am shaking

From the inside out

My intestines tangling,

My stomach climbing from my mouth.

I feel like

There is someone strangling me,

I feel like

Dangling from the ceiling.

I am a tree branch in my bed,

Immovable and cold.

Ready to be stepped on;

Ready to be snapped.

And there is rot in my wooden head,

A hole filled with mold.

I am this hollow branch, sinking in mud, and

I cannot find my soul.

I feel my bark peel;

My human skin thins.

My bones protrude;

My chest caved in.

I am disintegrating- my torso twisting, rotating,

I have gone missing; reality is now shaky.

The plates inside my head breaking,

And my grip on sanity is quickly fading.