You can’t place it, but you can’t put it out of your mind. You lay awake at night, mind a turmoil, and you wonder. You can’t be distracted; the mind sweeps back to the feeling. The feeling of complete dis-ease, discomfort, distaste for the situation, whatever it might be. Distrust, distance, possible disappointment.
But you can’t place what’s bothering you.
You don’t know what’s wrong.
You… just know… it’s wrong.
There’s no word to explain it, no face to put to it, no song to describe it. There’s nothing but the feeling of you running your hand over the back of your neck, wondering blankly.
Maybe I should listen to music. No song covers this.
Maybe I should sleep on it. No way I can sleep like this.
Maybe I should write something. I can’t be the only one with this feeling… can I?
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
You can’t place it, but you can’t put it out of your mind. You lay awake at night, mind a turmoil, and you wonder. You can’t be distracted; the mind sweeps back to the feeling. The feeling of complete dis-ease, discomfort, distaste for the situation, whatever it might be. Distrust, distance, possible disappointment.
But you can’t place what’s bothering you.
You don’t know what’s wrong.
You… just know… it’s wrong.
There’s no word to explain it, no face to put to it, no song to describe it. There’s nothing but the feeling of you running your hand over the back of your neck, wondering blankly.
Maybe I should listen to music. No song covers this.
Maybe I should sleep on it. No way I can sleep like this.
Maybe I should write something. I can’t be the only one with this feeling… can I?
