Detached;
My strings have detached
Like the vowels and constants I speak detached.
I watch the world
Through eyes not of mine
And live in a body
Living a life that doesn’t feel mine.
My chest feels empty
And my tone sounds vacant.
I am floating
Further from conscious
With no one to ground me
Everything seems not to be mine
To feel to touch
No matter how much I try.
For it merely feels like mist
Through which I pass my hand through.