Judging by the imagery, the speaker describes a moment of dissolving, as if reality and the self were being folded away like paper. The world shrinks "small, then smaller," and the speaker's own body seems to melt into water, leaving "what was no longer me." The title, "Derangement," suggests a mind pushed out of its normal order, and the poem feels like an attempt to record that state from the inside.
The senses scramble: electricity "screams," light has no name, and sound turns into colour. Then everything quiets into "space & light," with a split between body and mind. The brief flash of panic, when thoughts "plunge into ice," is the only clear fear in the poem, and it passes quickly.
The mood is eerie, detached and increasingly numb. The scattered layout, with lines stepping down the page, mirrors the sinking feeling. The ending is the bleakest part: writing no longer matters, and the poem fades into silence and blank space.