On shock

Taken from a journal, written 3-5-10 at 4:59pm-5:14pm

Thinking, but not really thinking about anything. Stare is unmovable, and the smile is in shock. Somehow still, as if not moving will make things change for the better; in a conscious coma. The mind knows, but the body does not. Losing all desire, after someone touches one of the chords in your heart. And now, sound reverberated throughout your case of a body. And your blood aches from flowing through your body that is barely alive. Your eyes well up, un-bursting, like holding the oceans in the fleshy skin of a pea. Your throat knots up, with the complexity of a "monkey's fist." You have screams that get stuck there.
And all because of shock; an agonizingly uncomfortable and bone-rustling shock. And suddenly, you're lost. You let go of the steering wheel, despite going 86 miles per hour. And for a second you feel free, until the following second, which is panic, and then closely accompanied by fear.
Energy is drained from your movement through a storm drain with no recovery. All this, at a time when music seems to be going at the rhythm of your heartbeat, or whats left of it.
At a time when you want to carve certain things out of your mind like a bruise on a bad apple. And you want to be left with just the seeds and stem.
Because honestly, the less you have, the less you have to deal with.
All this at a time when every word spoken sounds like singing to a very morbidly sad song. All this at a time of shock, when you learn to tune your emotions to deeply feel the world through it. And you wish nerves were like coated electrical wires so that you could know which one to snip, in order to stop that bomb that's ticking.