Blurred Clarity

Walking streets that seem as familiar as my bedroom,

And somehow feeling like a stranger or unwelcome intruder.

Being assured by strangers that they aren’t trying to beat me up,

And laughing at the fact that they think that’s a good start to a conversation.

I used to feel,

Feel a variety of emotions;

I’m not saying I’ve become numb despite previous attempts,

But the sensation has dulled or seems harder to detect.

I know how to smile for appearances but not sincerely,

I know how to yell and slam my fist but my anger seems convoluted and lost.

I’m fine with the mortal shell I’ve been given,

But is there a way I can disown whatever the hell it is that I’ve known to be “me”?

How can I find someone to be with,

When I don’t know how to feel together on my own?

It not that I want to be anyone else,

And I don’t necessarily desire to not be myself;

What may be the actual question,

Is who am I?


Compromised Focus

Screaming in basements to avoid being heard,

Typing out thoughts so patience doesn’t have to be tested,

It’s all become so routine;

Figuring out how to make the loudest noise yet remain concealed

In an absent-minded and loud world.

Exhausted at the resonance of criticism,

Flattened by the glare of chosen ignorance,

My disdain for sleep is tested by my stronger desire to avoid people.

While my body will be in far worse pain if I lay down uselessly,

It’s better than the pain of being surrounded by people

whose interactions feel like they’re done out of duty rather than hospitality.

Why believe you’re in a group when the people make you feel lonely?

Why sit next to someone who seems as though they’re deaf to your voice only?

I’m confused as to what relationships are actually supposed to do,

Especially since people seem to favor conversations on screens involving icons and abbreviations,

Rather than human engagement and sound.

Why should I see you in person when I can see you just fine on my phone screen?


Don’t waste your touch You won’t feel anything

 

 

Misunderstanding Guaranteed

 

One hand open and the other closed in a fist,

Offensively prepared in order to defend.

Straightened out after almost dying,

But why does it have to be that mortality is the only reason to try and make sense?

 

I’m amazed at what my eyes have seen,

But all the more amazed at how limited I am in perspective and insight.

My trust is much like when I try to hold your hand,

Strained at best; painful and unsure, uneasily making an effort for something desired and also frightening.

Cold winds have become a pleasure in this life with almost constant muscle pain;

While the stiffness is enhanced, it reminds me of the privilege is to be alive.

Humanity is a strange activity more often than not,

The closer you come to dying;

You may end up feeling more alive.

 

Walking a sidewalk is more akin to swimming in a sea of misinterpretation,

Surrounded by floundering intentions and emotions.

Masked attendants stand at corners waiting to cross the street,

When they can’t even understand how to interact with another human being.

Any questions?

Don’t expect an answer.

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Choices: Arrival & Departure

Words, for close to a year now;

Have been nearly impossible to find.

A paragraph of personal writing seemed to require an act of God,

But considering all existence is an act of God in and of itself;

I guess, it’s not as grand of a challenge as first imagined.

My mortality is the one thing giving me peace at the moment,

A world of difference from the anxiety it has provided historically.

 

Where or what I call home is officially immaterial,

And I’m grateful.

I’ve experienced things I thought always wanted recently,

Under circumstances I would’ve never chosen,

And yet I’m ready to let it all go.

To move on and have it exist merely as a memory.

Timing is still sensitive though,

That will never change.

And I’m grateful for this as well,

For it helps my reason keep on fighting my impulses quite well.

Onto another year of life,

Filled with questions and possibly not many answers

But who says that is anything to be upset about?

Another year, that I will gladly live one day at a time and no more.

———————————————————

Morning Oration

No matter how it is presented,

Or how it is supposedly justified,

Hypocrisy is one of the ugliest human traits.

 

So, what do you do when you’re the hypocrite?

The filth and poison being released into the world,

Is a burden you’re responsible for creating.

I knew most any trust I’d even imagined to possessing had been broken,

But I didn’t intend to forget what trust was altogether.

Unfortunately, I believe it happened because it just made things easier.

 

When the face you hate seeing most is your own,

You look only when required;

And make haste otherwise.

I’ve really done it this time,

And this is the oddity of mistakes.

Whence you’ve recognized you’ve lost your way,

It doesn’t always mean you need to discover a new path.

You may have run out of all resources possible to have and need to rest,

You may backtrack and seemingly digress;

But never, should you ever, give up and surrender.

 

I want to desire to trust others again,

But I believe must learn how to trust myself first.

How and why should I expect to trust people I’m around occasionally,

If I can’t be bothered to trust the person I am and will be for all time?

————————————————————

 

Tonight’s Words

So much to not say,

The only conversations are with myself.

Remembering all I want to forget,

Muscle pain lingers like debt.

We often obsess about the meaning of things,

But we always view from the shadow of our own apocalypse;

Why are we so caught up with the end when we can’t handle what is right in front of us?

After you say “it can’t get any worse” yet again,

Don’t bother asking why you lie to yourself only when?

When will you do it again?

Don’t take this as a cry or pessimistic thesis,

I just don’t want you to get cut on the pieces;

Pieces of your broken illusions.

Don’t be afraid to dream or aspire,

But keep your feet on the ground.

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