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i'm feeling it
the drift
a wedge
i'm draining
no one hears it,
an empty void
pure desolate silence
i don't want to stay
“nobody cares”
so why should i?
the idiosyncratic facade
fazing everyone
compressing everything within
yet i feel so hollow
Hannah Noel Mar 1
I've become so convincing in the role of myself,
I'm starting to believe it's actually me.
This is not my skin
I will not, can not fit in
suited for some other guy
Left here to wonder why

Why the hand-me-downs
a shortage of cosmic gowns
too many orders in my size
a flood seeking my prize

To find which is my skin
have what’s out match within
a fit made perfect right
no pinching not too tight

chafing ended the tightrope
walker’s life scratched hope
for feeling something without
ends in a flight of doubt

I am sure this is not my skin
they tell me doubt’s a sin
well king of sinners am I
watch my eternal life die

ever wonder where I belong
on which fork turned wrong
where direction unravelled
took a path well-travelled

By those in others’ skin
outside differs from within
wearing the suit of some guy
merchandise we did not buy

stand here middle of the road
burdened by my heavy load
left here to wonder why
my eye cannot find I

Aye, this is not my skin
a shell I try to fit in
like a hermit crab’s shell
my personal little hell

flames fan desire to know
where did my true self go
for surely there is another
my misplaced other

who also feels within
“this is not my skin”
I wonder how, wonder why
I cannot trade with that guy

Left here to wonder why
suited for some other guy
I will not, can not fit in
this is not my skin.
eden Dec 2020
i do not think
i am in my body
no, i know
for a fact i am not

i have been away
far off in some
other space
some other place
there's roses on the floor
but they are all withered
and the red that
once looked like blood
has turned to
a dull sun

the glow from this
distance is not
it is sickening

maybe i went too far
outer space took me away
up up up
higher and higher
on the moon

all alone here
you're talking to me
but i don't know who
it is you speak to

because i am no longer
on the earth
i have not had my feet
planted firmly on
the ground in a long time

the sky races by
and the weeks
go so fast now
i am living months and months
in the past

stuck, or maybe just gone
its too odd
to explain to you

so i will simply say
i am away
Solar Nov 2020
The clouds float with a sense of melancholy this day,
leaving a lingering sensation of unease echoing below
the well of my insomnia.

The eclipse has cast a dulling shade upon my adulthood.
Where I once felt the ember of passion,
there now lays bare a garden of wilting lavender
Sophia Nov 2020
i am a stray
dragging my feet through the mud
waiting for the sun to drop
so i can hide in the shadows
for a little while.

i am not where i belong
i am stuck in a wave of pitfalls
but the earth keeps revolving
can it not hear me?
can it even see me?

when i scream,
for it to stop,
for it to slow down
so i can catch up
my body is here
but my mind is somewhere else.
a poem i wrote about disassociation.
Moth Oct 2020
I sit alone on the floor,
the light blinks in and out.
...or perhaps it is my eyes?
that I cast now over leftwards
to look at the doorway.
Empty, as it always is,
or is now? as it should be.

I feel as though I am floating,
no, I am grounded now.
Chained here to the floor.
My body lays like bones in the ground,
unmoving and crushed by dirt.
heavy and cloying, the smell of earth.
worms dig under my skin,
wriggling parasites in my skull.

Am I decaying? like I once wished.
my thoughts like rot, what else...
but to deteriorate into darkness.
My body lays on the floor,
a useless cadaver as it always was.
I am strung to it by some means,
my ghost lingering on the dead.
Have I not moved on yet?
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