All I can feel is the motion between our bodies.
Like some ever grasping tension that just keeps things together.
That felling could be unwanted.
You feel that someone is inside your soul.
Get it out.
Beginning to read my thoughts,
she’s in my head.
Some parasitic leech,
eating,
eating,
a host of hosts.
I haven’t seen it for years but it still pierces my ears,
pulls out my tongue, feeds it to the animals.
Im not even sure what IT is anymore.
Is it an idea?
Maybe it is a living thing.
Watching me when I sleep,
laughing at me while I’m alone.
It feels like everything is out to get me.
I dont know what to believe anymore.
So many things tell me its wrong,
but here I am, things I thought were right,
what proves that everything else isn’t?
They tell me I’m brilliant.
Tell me I am a good man, one of the few.
How can I believe that?
Just words, words with no actions.
Praise with no conclusions.
They were asked what they thought of me as a whole.
They say different.
They say interesting.
They say melancholia.
I need to be picked at.
I need to know what its like.
Peeling off some scab that you have just been itching at for days.
What do they say behind my back?
I want to know.
There has to be something!
Tell it to me, right into my face.
I am sociopathic.
I am disturbed.
I am annoying.
I am ugly.
They say where there is good,
there is an equal opposite.
It’s in everything.
How can you appreciate the highs when there are no lows?
Maybe I am already low, and I wont accept the highs.
I’m all mixed up.
Walls are closing in.
I see swirling patterns through my walls,
in the darkness, even when I don’t want to.
Smoke engulfs my world.
I see it rising from the ground,
coming out of my mouth,
I dream of it too.
I breathe it in and all I breathe out is smoke.
I can feel it in my lungs, I really can.
I feel it go up my throat and out of my mouth,
even when Im sleeping.
I can only wonder if others feel like this.
Feeling so hopeless, yet so found.
Everything seems right but there is always that something.
Too far from your sight.
So you don’t talk about it,
but its always there.
In the back of your mind like smoke.
Just hazing up everything.
I may be different but what is normal anyway?
