With sunlight dripping
onto this fading couch,    
washing the dizzying pattern
I’ve become so used to…

Once more, I fail to act–
I fail to engage.

I’m spewing in the rays,
but, closer to stagnant water
filling a murky pond.  
  
Motions feel heavy,
thoughts– slow, clumsy
and failing to flow.

Washed by my water
I’m colored by dullness,
corroded to flatness.

I’m growing dry,
evaporating along with
the pattern of my couch.

As you came into my view, I could see…  
There was something missing internally.    
A void was preventing me to be free,            
And was plaguing me, since eternity.            

But with your presence, I suddenly knew,
All along, my insides have felt askew.        
It’s keeping me down; it’s painting me blue.    
But now the color is displaced by you…        

Displaced by you–my gaps vanish in whole,  
Displaced by you–integrated my soul,      
Deep–into every last wrinkle and fold,      
We’re integrated–together we’re rolled.    

And as you’ve become ingrained in my veins,    
There’s no pause to the pattern or plane,      
We sit flush, joining as if we’re the same,    
This feels familiar--there might be a name.        

But how to define something of the sorts,
Existing naturally, without a source,
But now apparent, an obvious force
As it all made sense–I uttered...

“of course.”

Hunting the marrow of my brain,        
Raptor talons feast through flesh,
Shredding tissue with each tear–
my neurons scream.

And as pain pulses in violence,
I’m swallowed by a cloud–
The external muffles, then drains,
Leaving only the talons.

Sitting cross-legged at your site,
dreadfully admiring the grass clumps
growing disrespectfully over your plot,
as if time forgot to stop for you.
Your neighbors are encroaching closer,
becoming a sea of graves,
You’re blending in with the rest.
Crickets and birds keep chirping
while the excavator cuts through
my thoughts digging new plots.
Time and life just keep progressing
But without you, I’ve stopped.

These knotted guts
eject my pulsating heart,
while I wait for my welfare
to imminently crumble–
I’m lunging from my vessel.

I frantically survey for danger,
but the culprits remain covert–
I turn up empty on my basis.

But failing to subside, I wonder…
do the wires of my diagnosis
wrap me in incessant neurosis?
Or has conditioning to trauma
trained my brain to fear?

Regardless I remain engulfed
by this looming devastation,
and my neck constantly aches
from looking over my shoulder.

Distraction after another distraction,
Chasing dopamine but it’s fleeting.
My failure to take any real action,
And patterns go again repeating…

Sitting with it would be better-
Creating space with each exhale-
But instead, I seek quick pleasure,
Can I escape from this mental jail?

With each transient gratification,
Receptors meet a chemical reward.
Producing less natural generation-
I just want my brain restored.

There once was a captive giraffe,          
Who escaped from the city zoo,  
But with this newly found freedom,
He wasn’t quite sure what to do.

Bustle overwhelmed his senses,
‘Till he finally found some lawn,
But the trees were scarce and fragile,
With dried leaves barely hanging on.

Flooded with options and self-doubt,
He let out some ironic laughs,
And returned back to the same zoo,
Back with all the other giraffes.