Melting Mello

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is more reality than I am accustomed to reveal. Not really a poem, but more so a snapshot of now.

I just feel kind of numb really
Without ambition
No direction
Melting mello

A blur of downward sliding feelings
Oozing paint colors melting into each other forming a unified grey

It feels unique every time this happens
It never goes away
It is always there, in the corner, just beyond touch
This feeling is so frequent, I grew accustomed to it
Like the parts of a season you like
Somehow I feel connected to it

As if this state of being is its own being
A friend
My only friend
I empty my box of mangled emotions, thoughts and abandoned feelings at its feet
It understands all of it, all of me

It is frustrating when I fall victim to feeling human
My human needs to experience someone's speech, touch or reaction
But this state of being can only speak when I connect to it, like now
It speaks through my fingers when I type, through my words when I talk to myself or in my head

I do not know if others have this state of being
Even then, there is no way I would ever share this with someone
For starters there isn't anyone
Secondly, if I did share this, I'd be ridiculed or judged, diagnosed and analyzed to no end

I will spend the rest of the day for sure with my state of being
Probably for the next several days
I will pretend, like I always do
Keep up appearances
Play along
Inside is nothing more than the outside

Submitted: November 21, 2014

© Copyright 2021 youseethroughme. All rights reserved.

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