coping mechanism as distraction and vice versa

my mind is not
ready for zen.

my mind is not
mine.

it is a slice
of orange.

it is not the type of
orgasmic orange
that you peel
and squeal
about,
its flesh dripping
like fuck.

my mind is not
ready for zen.

it is not
still.

it is wet
like rabies.

it is dry
like disappointing orange.

it will not stop
with its fuck.

if something approaches that
scares me,
i bristle.

i man my
man-ness.

i cower inside
my skin.

i am still inside
my body.