Portrait of a Capgras

I don’t know how to write about schizophrenia
So I’ll write about my brother

I don’t know how to write about my brother
So I’ll write about schizophrenia

During a Capgras delusion
I’m a CIA agent wearing a costume to mimic myself
And with a voice modulator amplifying my vocal cords,
I give the aura of a self that I am not

My brother informs me that I’m in on it
That I am it
           It being the project
                     The project being the nightmare
                                The nightmare being being
                                        Being like this

I don’t know how to dream anymore
So I’ll write about the nightmare inside which I’m trapped

The nightmare goes: Boil water → Grab tongs → Clutch device → Dip into boiling water
→ Place on cutting board → Hoist hammer → Swing

The nightmare continues: Mute voices you hear → Hidden shadows you see
→ The chip implanted into your brain → I cannot save you → You remind me I’m human

I send you a poem about the name you erase, and you won’t read it
I shared Esmé Wang’s book, and you said you might get around to it

I can’t read you anymore because I glued you to a pedestal so tall
That looking up at it made my neck snap

Head hung on a thread of veins
Empty eye sockets spitting optic nerves that tether my retina
To the only view remaining of the pedestal’s underside

Meditate twice a day            Medicate twice a day
Hope for survival                  Survival is victory

           Maybe we’re all just trying to survive

Schizophrenia          is             your shadow

      I don’t know how to write about your shadow
                 So I’ll bask in your light