One Thin Shard Poem by Margaret Alice Second

In quiet stupefaction I watch as my body
language as well as irrelevant or the most
unsuitable remarks destroy my life, I simper,
whimper and sigh until no positive feeling
remains in my breast, with a ballistic ear
directing my disposition & attitude through
pain, I watch horrified as even the basic
forms of interaction disintegrate, either

My body is a stranger to me or my mind
has gone haywire; sitting in 30 degree
Celsius as our old friend the ancient air-
con broke down again in the middle of an
overheated season - despondent, I can't
visualize myself normal again & carry on
acting like a simpering simpleton saying
the most outrageously stupid things, so

Inappropriate my colleague's endeavoring
to survive by ignoring the idiotic remarks
that keep jumping out of my mouth like the
thorns and thistles in the fairytale of the
girl who damned herself - why does my
mind keep breaking into pieces and only
one thin shard's left for trying to do my
work and live my life?