Anthony Hanible

Going Crazy The Crisis Center

The hallway tilts

Before you even cross it

As if the building itself

Is deciding whether

To swallow you whole

The lights buzz

Not softly now

But like insects trapped

Inside a dying star

Every flicker feels personal

As if the electricity

Has learned your name

Your thoughts fracture

Into sharp

Metallic shards

Spinning in circles

You can’t step out of

They scrape the inside

Of your skull

Like something trying

To carve its way free

You sit in the waiting room

But the room feels alive

Breathing slow

Watching you back

The chairs stare

With hollow patience

As if they’ve held

A thousand unravelings

And know yours

Will not be the last

A voice calls your name

But it sounds distant

Warped

As though spoken

Through a cracked mirror

Still

You rise

Your legs remember

What your mind has forgotten

How to move

Even when everything else

Is slipping

Inside the office

The air is thick

Heavy with the ghosts

Of other nights like this

But there is a steadiness too

A quiet gravity

That pulls you back

From the edges

You can’t name aloud

Maybe

Going crazy

Isn’t the fall they warn about

Maybe it’s the moment

The mask finally fractures

And the truth beneath

Stops hiding

And the crisis center

This dim

Humming sanctuary

Is the place that holds you

While the darkness

Rearranges itself

Into something

You can survive