the salient features
of a roaring breakdown --
loss of footing (a metaphor)
floating somewhere between
the ceiling and floor (a sensation)
the terror of not knowing
where my next thought
will come from, if it will come
at all, I am unsettled
in the unsettling, cling
to a nurse, to a mental health tech
to a fellow patient, find myself
drawing with crayon, do not understand
where the table came from
the chair feels like the blessed savior
I scratch out a picture
of Hocking Hills park from a pamphlet
am gratified to wake
the next day and find
a masterpiece, of sorts
by the breakfast trays
and scattered citizens
of the psychiatric institute
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