• yannick-robin eike mirko

hallucinations my new psych told me there's nothing we can do about

Updated: 7 days ago

I just don't know how to not feel like I'm

ceramic fragments of a coffee mug with dried up grounds stuck, constantly ripping

into tinier pieces. As oppose d to a

human, who feels.

A subway car can fill up with one

hundr ed of the same exact person. ..I

can touch them, hear them, feel their

breath running down my neck.

I go to sleep. The same person

appears. I wake

up. The movies that

feature that person overlay above the

people that fill the train car when it's

not them, all day.

Always cracked, never shut. Unlike the

doors of the cars that trap me down

there with them for over twenty

minutes at a time as the rest of the

people on board simply grunt at the

only inconvenience to them being

getting somewhere else a littler later.

I would grunt too, but | stopped

understanding whether or not there

were ever lips on my mouth when the

train stopp ed for more than five

seconds. That's how fast it happens.

Sometimes it's the way someone's

hand moves to grab their coffee from

the ir. bag. Sometimes it's a silhouette

that deceives me back and forth more

than once in a minute.

I'm constantly trying to decipher if my

thoughts are memories or


Am I just remembering the way his

hand used to approach my face in the

way that the fingers clasp the coffee. . ..

Is he really ordering a latte, still, after

all these years?

More than five seconds in a crowd of

people and at least two to five of them

become one of.….it somehow becomes

indistinguishable, yet exactly like the

moment you were hurt the most by that

person, combined with all of the other

times it happen ed too. In five seco n d s..

And somehow, your left leg has to turn

back on so you can get off at your stop.

Though you never really leave the


“Enter with or buy Metrocard at 168th st.”