Catharsis

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
the feeling is gone

Submitted: February 15, 2017

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Submitted: February 15, 2017

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Here or not, it doesn’t really matter now.

I fade into the background, like white noise,

Hoping that you don’t, see me now.

I leave, just as quietly, as I entered.

 

Was gonna make a splash,

But I didn’t make it to the water.

I don’t come with any fanfare,

Actively avoiding the center of attention.

 

Yet I crave your attention, because it

Validates my existence, and it makes me feel special.

I want to hear all your opinions about me,

While simultaneously not giving a fuck, what you think.

 

That little bit of magic on my fingertips,

Has all faded away, into the atmosphere.

I’m a shell of what I once was,

And all of the feeling is gone.

 

The creativity slows down to a crawl,

And I can’t feel my hands anymore.

I try to salvage what I can,

But I’m just out of reach.

 

The dreams lying dead in a ditch,

And rigor mortis has set in.

This process, used to be cathartic,

But there’s no feeling, in any of this.

 


© Copyright 2017 Melancholic Wisdom. All rights reserved.

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