#depersonalization
You walk through the world, an echo in the dark,
Wondering if the flame is real, or just a spark.
Your hands hold paper, yet they grasp at air,
Questioning the faces gathered by the stair.
Are they solid truth, or shadows on the wall?
The friends who laugh, the lovers when they call?
Your family, your siblings,
the partner's gaze—Are they merely phantoms lost within the maze?
Are you a creature of the earth, flesh and bone?
Or just a nameless insect hiding in a stone?
A bird in mist, a flower blooming fast, A drifting fish,
or roots that anchor to the past?
Are you a mountain reaching for the sky?
Or a falling leaf that time has hurried by?
Are you the river winding to its endless end,
Or the biting cold of winter, a cruel, familiar friend?
Are you the pain that cracks the weary chest?
Or the love that heals and promises a rest?
The tiny atom, unseen, yet holding space,
Or the expanding universe, a boundless, starry grace?
Maybe you are nothing but a breath of air,
Bound to a name, a phantom standing there.
Perhaps you do not know, and that is perfectly fine,
To wander softly through the fog, without a grand design.
It is better, isn't it, to let the mystery stay?
To slip without an answer into the fading gray?
That is what you sought, beyond the fading chime, The quiet peace of being unknown,
after all this time.
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I @m S0ø4Y...
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Right?
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 9:52 AM UTC
The other day, I looked at myself in the mirror after getting a haircut.
I was shocked for a few seconds, then scared—because the person I saw facing me wasn't me.
I felt a weird feeling in my chest and stomach, as if I were just an intruder in my own body and mind.
I catch myself saying things I don’t really mean, but by the time I notice, I’ve already said them. When that happens, I feel the same way as before.
I feel scared because I can't find myself. Sometimes I have to stop and think about what things I like or what type of person I am, and I just can’t tell.
I try to keep my eyes closed and not look down when I shower, because if I do, I’ll make an unpleasant expression; it isn’t really me.
Some days I want to die; on others, I’m scared of dying. Sometimes I just want to feel loved, to feel a connection—the warmth of another human being touching my arms, my hands, my neck, my lips, my hair. But I also hate people. Maybe that’s just a reflection of all the mean comments, sarcastic looks, fake loves, and slaps in the face I received in school. I used to go to school, but now I can’t even do that anymore. I feel anxious and panicked just by leaving my place for too long.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 1:16 AM UTC
sometimes,
she didn’t understand how the world around her kept on ticking
moments creeping up on her in a plethora of places
perhaps...
she was solitary for too long,
and she noticed how easily she could fade away from all the noise
or maybe she was in a crowded room,
wondering what drove people’s liveliness
how they could talk and smile and joke and laugh and wonder and dream
while she slowly stared off into space,
slipping under into that frighteningly quiet liminal place
living used to come easy
but the effortless way in which she used to forge through life feels rather far away
she longs to once again embody her child-like spirit,
the one in which life held a comforting certainty to it,
and she didn’t question her humanness…
her ability to love others (her endearing parents, her steadfast sister and her deeply compassionate older brother),
her capacity to sing, to dance, to play…
to experience all that life has to offer
she often wonders if her life would be different had she been able
to hold on tight to the ones she grew up with
the close friends she cherished and
believed would accompany her until
it was time for her spirit to rest
maybe her humanity died then,
when she lost contact with the ones who knew her best
when she slowly self-isolated and
broke off her one and only romance,
fearful that she was dead weight
and while all these thoughts swirl around in her head, she notices how everyone around her keeps tick, tick, ticking
following a steady metronome,
capable of remaining present and clear-focused
she longs to once again feel grounded and self-assured;
connected and content
but it’s like trying to wind a clock that’s already forgotten how to tick
or maybe the ticking was never real–
just something we all agree to hear
we all call it “purpose” so it doesn’t sound like fear
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 1:46 PM UTC
This body is a rental with claw marks
I've worn it as a costume
A form of armour
A question I'm too tired to answer
They keep handing me mirrors
Like I'm supposed to say 'thank you'
But I know what lives beneath my ribs
A storm
A voice that never learned quiet
Some days
I move like this second hand skin
Wasn't stitched from other people's expectations
Other days
I send out smoke signals
From a war I didn't start
Still
I show up
Bruised
Blistered
Jul 25, 2025
Jul 25, 2025 at 3:08 PM UTC
Adrift in between—the breath and the break.
Muffled by silence. The real feels fake.
Visible ghosts pay invisible costs—
In search of myself, I found myself lost.
A stranger arrives. Identity wanes.
We share the same pulses that surge through my veins.
Observe my duality—tell me, who's true?
The body you saw, or the energy you knew?
Without the observer, I'm held out of phase.
I fill empty space—with more empty space.
You glanced in my direction, collapsed me to light.
I fell into being, from quantum-bound heights.
Euphoria sleeps. I dread my own wake.
Time ticks while I shake and my thoughts dissipate.
Here I am again—my lowest of highs.
Collapsed, but still standing, still living these lies.
I flicker between a phantom and soul.
Wholeheartedly hollow. I burn without glow.
The past still hums beneath thinning skin—
A whispering echo that calls out my sin.
Step in too close, or just take a look—
I quietly fold, closed up like a book.
The script rewrites its endings to shift,
As I drift, unwilling, through reality’s slit.
One path offers clean, another brings filth.
I exist just as is—your perception brings guilt.
Not welcome to be—medicate me to align.
Would you believe it’s your doubt fracturing my mind?
These moments go slow—I cope to feel new.
But each time I stitch, my seams just undo.
I’m a fracture. A wreck. Pathetically alive.
Until the next time I hide—from the gaze of your eye.
May 16, 2025
May 16, 2025 at 11:00 AM UTC
I’m a rainy day parade.
A parade that was rained on
but decided to play anyway.
Neither the rain nor the parade is a charade.
Rather, the rain is Kool-Aid and the parade is a wall
of a bar.
I’m on the other side looking far
too
gone.
I sob and blub between a racket of thunder and brass.
Every emotion I feel feels crass.
Alas, are these drops tears or rain?
My life is a metaphor for itself.
Is that irony or plain?
Maybe they were drops of Kool-Aid.
May 14, 2025
May 14, 2025 at 12:43 PM UTC
I waver within my waveform’s depth,
A flicker lost in their measured sight.
They've named my lapse, a sound minds death,
When I witness all darkness bend into light.
A mirror stands between my thoughts,
it splits, refracts, then realigns.
So, they call me fractured, I'm just overwrought,
When I study existence expanding in time.
My tethered shinning of shattered hues,
Paid observers stare blindly to tell.
They label my state. They say they're "breaking through",
Not keen to the fact our perceptions do fail.
My essence flickers, I'm framed in their glass,
A particle, turned quantum wave, now undone.
Charting my patterns, they look down as they pass.
As I know, every wave will collapse into one.
The observers, they write their same repeated script,
Equations in ink are reducing my place.
But I'm more than their words can ever depict,
A paradox they know, their own minds could not trace.
So...
With your ink's certainty, tell which of us is "off"?
Who truly knows this pleromatic-scape for how it's meant?
Explain how the quantum can tell lies in its flux.
Say I drift and dissolve? KNOW, I'm standing unbent.
There stands a "scholar," A pen pushing bot.
For their status. For their wealth in a check at week's ends.
I'm a wave that was created by divine creative forces,
With a rare mind born from divine, purposeful accidents.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 4:32 PM UTC
𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕,
𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊.
𝙰𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖,
𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎.
𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎,
𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝’𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙶𝚊𝚣𝚎,
𝚈𝚎𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚑𝚜 within
𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢'𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚎.
𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚛
𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 long 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋?
𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 my 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠.
𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 my 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.
𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 remain 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍.
My 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚝,
It 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚢 shaky 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎
𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜 failing 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝.
𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚡
𝚘𝚏 my 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎'𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎.
𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚡 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 a 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚜 a 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 the 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍
𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 the 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍.
𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗.
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍
𝙾𝚑, 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎 divine,
Gift my 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍.
𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚝 down in𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 body
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍.
𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚢 that's 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝,
Living only to 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎.
𝙸 am at odds. I'm a division.
I am a soul 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎.
De𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, let it 𝚙𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚎
𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖s 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕,
𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 can see the 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚜
𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 in 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕.
And w𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑,
𝙼𝚢 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑,
Gift my life to meet your eyes.
L𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚢 on, 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 4:11 PM UTC
I Am The CaveDweller
My soul is bound to the comfort of night.
I see peace in the eyes of those walking in light.
Why is mine a lonesome, misbegotten path?
Bound to my darkness, with blackness, my craft.
They see vividly what I see in smears.
I'd rather be Blind, never seen it more clear.
I Am The DeathEater
My path, criticized. My love, mistaken.
My truths, demonized. My intentions, forsaken.
I exist in my very own questionable ways.
Is what they may say. But yet, either way,
They have failed to explain such a lack in my soul,
The obligation to judge someone's ways, or my own.
I Am The DreamKeeper
I only doubt the meta-space where I belong.
At any given time, my intention is not wrong.
Why am I undeserving of the blessing of eyes,
Capable of enjoying this dreadful paradise?
Designed in a way to be loved in its allure.
Yet my reality holds a truth morbid and obscure.
I am The FleshKiller
My outward darkness veils a radiant light.
For under the skin, I am truly alive.
Aware of the truths, of the infinite "you",
The finite "you" hides from others, and you.
I criticize my flesh as if I’m it's maker.
I'm ashamed of this life. But I'm not a LifeTaker.
I Am The LightBringer
The allure of light is heartbreaking.
As I remain in my statuette state of polarity,
I will only dream of me belonging.
It remains and sustains, acceptance and peace.
Yet for me, they remain just out of my reach.
I die by the hour while soaking in bleach.
I Am The FatePainter
I'm a sinful sonnet, a broken poem within.
With my creative means to my own creative end.
The TruthCraving LieBreaker, known as my head.
Screaming “This is the end. You'll never begin again..."
Yet I face another canvas, this in mind, for my sake.
Every stroke I can make, paints my darkest mistakes.
I Am The MindShaper
Limited possibilities of existence make me numb.
I understand every start brings a darker outcome.
Is there really no promise, of existential peace?
Can a bright soul, entrapped, ever be set free?
I only question form, from within this faulted case.
In metaphysical space, I've been put in my place.
I Am The EndSeeker
I cannot obtain, what I have never seen.
To live and show love is to live a true me.
I'm a creature of creation, On this abysmal planet.
I'll orbit the sun, I will suffer, then I'll vanish.
I float above the black. Trapped below the white.
****** hands washed with tears, as I carve out my light.
♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 2:30 AM UTC
I am not whole. I am fragments, arrayed.
I fade into gray. The dusk steals day.
A shadow in time, I drift out of scope.
I'm lost in some void I've created to cope.
Am I real in the moments when I am not seen?
I'm dead in my light, two souls caught between.
My thoughts twist and turn like an entangled thread.
I'm alive and I'm dead, both only in my head.
My truth has been lost, Identity unclear.
A haunted soul screaming that only I hear.
My sight is obscured. A curse left me torn.
I'm the dead that I mourn. I'm the living unborn.
Through time’s endless loop, I twist, and I bend.
In stories untold, cause they’re never going to end.
My mind shifts dimensions, untethered and free.
Yet bound by the question, “What’s really left of me?”
My past echoes a dead voice that remains.
An unobserved self, that's still screaming in pain.
There's a rip in our fabric, a crack in our sky.
His dreams are now shrouded, the nightmares are mine.
I’m a riddle I've created, that I can't even solve.
I fall like the snow, I silently dissolve.
I grasp at the stars, but I'm burned by their light.
My Passions, like flames, smothered from sight.
Not of the flesh, the blood, or the bone,
A desolate recluse, that never feels alone.
I speed through the night just to die every day.
I'm valued for words, till there's nothing to say.
I'm the outlet for a lonesome omni-God.
Caught between the real, the imagined, and the fraud.
I vanish so quick, like the smoke from my lungs.
The thoughts I can't translate, I'm thinking in tongues.
I ask who I am but never give Myself answers.
My condition never ends. I'd rather it be cancer.
I'm nothing but a ripple of thought in my dreams.
Then the moment I'm seen, I lose everything.
Through layers of time that I cannot perceive.
Bound by the question, “What’s really left of me?”
A shadow in time, I'm drifting out of scope.
Tangled in entangled strings, lest I hang from a rope.
♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
Mar 30, 2025
Mar 30, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC
I am just a concept.
shapes twisting, moving, changing,
taking on new and familiar forms,
fading and brightening, becoming new colors,
colors that may not even exist yet.
as one piece of me falls out of focus, another fills the void,
sometimes just shapes and colors, I'm unrecognized
other times, the shapes get smaller, more specific,
piecing together a collage of misshapen pieces,
ultimately giving the illusion of unity, of purpose.
i ask myself if how I'm seeing myself is how others do.
everyone pieces these shapes together differently,
creating a new being unique to them that i cannot precieve.
to them, i am those ideas, that shape,
and others can say what they see,
change what others see of me,
influence other's perception of myself.
to me, i am constantly changing,
constantly evolving,
the me that i can precieve is just a concept,
in that light i am just a thought, nothing more.
Feb 17, 2025
Feb 17, 2025 at 1:17 PM UTC
My mind is scattered
thoughts askew
not myself
she who I never knew
disconnected from reality
never knowing the truth
a faceless ghost
telling me what to do
reaching for answers
that skim my fingers
unable to grasp
my thoughts
the new
my mind is a puzzle
missing half the pieces
the others are the same
an impossible thing to continue
I yearn to connect
the pieces of my mind
but I’m missing the blueprint
the one I must design
scattered mind
controlled by a ghost
whose name is mine
but face is unknown…
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 2:39 PM UTC
Laughter skips across the surface of the lake like a skipping stone emanating different eerie high-pitched tones that seem to echo the ghostly chirps of birds that have gone quiet and no longer fly. Nothing like one would imagine a stone's speech to be like.
A fine flat surface water-weaves itself once more. Nothing threatens to disturb it again. Not even bubbling from below. There are no thermal vents with life growing along their warm edges. No aquatic life beneath that unknowingly breathes its wishes which are carried to the surface and up into the blank slate of a sky.
Beneath it all is a cool concrete floor much like the ones in any backyard pool in the suburbs. Nothing of nature, of adaptability. Only neutral stone at its depths.
Nov 16, 2024
Nov 16, 2024 at 5:16 AM UTC
Clementines on a Sunday morning
I've had a taste of love
I fell down
Way too many times
This feeling's so surreal
Must be crime... Crime?
Subtle, subliminal
You come around like a criminal
And leave me yearning
For your
Clementines on a Sunday morning.
Oct 19, 2023
Oct 19, 2023 at 9:20 AM UTC
Float
Watch from behind
Back to the front
I was never there
Your perspective
His/her?
So unlikely
They’re alike
Who am I?
Sep 7, 2022
Sep 7, 2022 at 4:33 PM UTC
Encased, as an oil painting,
behind a plane of glass.
Years of exposure dulling the canvas,
no funding to restore the brightness
of the subject's lifeless eyes.
They lay dormant, cloudy,
From a lifetime of accumulative debris.
Transferred between people, buildings, countries;
Memories on display for brief intervals,
Then packaged and returned to storage,
As if they were never your own.
People shift, distorted, beyond the coffin of glass.
Their movements hazy,
The shutter speed slow.
Colours muted,
Sounds muffled,
Melting into each other.
An abstract watercolour, waxing and waning.
Low resolution projections on a dimly lit screen -
A theatre seating but one.
Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 4:36 PM UTC
There's a thing in the reflection
Two beady eyes shoved deep into black
sockets, stabbing through my temple
There's a hunch in their back,
but not by choice
A collar wraps tightly around
the throat, creating deep holes for
inconsolable truths to slip out
I woke to him hanging from the
ceiling; ever constant blank expression plastered
The wire is wrapped around my body
We have never spoken a word
to one another. forever inseparable
A gentle kiss on the forehead,
and suddenly the floor seems much less cold
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 6:21 PM UTC
What is this feeling
I can't seem to shake?
I know im not dreaming
But i dont feel awake
I look all around me
But nothing feels real
My heart keeps on pounding
it's all i can feel
What is this feeling
that steals all my breath?
Whatever i do
it won't make me fear less
I look at the world
But it's just one big dream
Reality is fading
It's not what it seems
I call out for help
But nobody can hear me
The silence within
Is all that is near me
Im trapped in my mind
with no place to go
this life is an illusion
im all on my own
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 11:18 PM UTC
thoughts just slip away
suddenly the whole world around me is spinning
and i’m stuck behind an invisible glass pane
i look down at hands that are now no longer my own
lights are blinding, voices overwhelming
demanding and persecutory
everybody hates me, i need to hurt myself
time is somehow suspended?
i can’t control it
screaming but nobody can hear me
i know that they’re all out to get me
running- not sure where
apparitions of the future
i’m dying
the darkness engulfs
Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 6:04 AM UTC
Overcome the apathy, disconnected truth
We, our fractured vanity, the forbidden fruit
A line once drawn, towards the edge we’ve toyed
Reality now gone, journeying into the void
Witch-fed lies, as we timidly believe
The vagrant’s cries, nothing special to see
Listlessly we begin to die, but this is not we
Forever asking, why this has to be
The intertwined insanity, a stricken route
Became lost in profanity, once in our youth
Striving towards a new dawn, only to avoid
The paths of an old pawn, as lines get destroyed
Once uplifted to fly, to never deceive
This vagrant’s only ply, is a subtle belief
To never be shy, and only wish to receive
Or, to rely on what he believes
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 7:23 PM UTC
Heavy weight on top of me
Icy
falling asleep
Eyes weak and droopy
Body in cement
Paralyzed
My spirit floating on top of my lifeless body,
Death is that you?
Why must you come and visit me but never take me to your home?
And yet you won’t let me leave
I want to let go but it seems you have me entranced by your numbness,
I want to be light as air,
Not heavy like a boulder.
I want my spirit back
Why did you take it away from me
Why did you take the vibrancy
Why did you take my eyes to see
Let me go or take me with you
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 3:09 PM UTC
She appears and I just give it a blow
Suddenly I'm not here anymore
Can't feel the world
Can’t Feel my body
Tense and firm Full with fear
I can’t find an answer for me
I'm not Going to find one for you
But help me!
Pull me out of here!
Because I can’t take it
I can’t
Not anymore
With your time
Just get me out of here
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC