Today I feel happy,
All I want is to see you laugh.
I'm hyper tomorrow,
Too much and I'll receive your wrath.
My tactless jokes, my insane antics,
Inside I'm a mess of frantic panic.
I don't feel anymore,
And i forget what it's like,
To really feel through my bones.
I am so alone,
Not for attention, not for pity
Desperate for company in a squalid city.
Telling people is difficult,
The very thought could cause revolt.
Hoping for the worst still playing pretended,
I wish someone would lend me some sanity.
Afraid my friends wouldn't Understand why,
Fearing more they will understand, Staring me in the eye.
Take a breath, blink my eyes,
Take off my undetected disguise.
It hurt so much, but I didn't feel.
Everything was wrong, nothing was real.
(this poem was about something i didn't want to think about.)
Blinking slowly,
Breathing in,
Biting my lip,
Tasting tin.
I explain the way I am,
Pretending to feel,
Following like a thoughtless lamb.
Telling them, half the time,
I can’t even feel,
Confiding in them that
Everything is wrong,
Nothing is real.
(this is the second of the poem above. The current drama is still unsolved.)
Nothing was wrong,
Everything was real.
Their raw understanding broke my numb haze.
Heads turned critically,
But none tried to ridicule me.
“I feel like that sometimes,”
They say.
I reply, “I don’t feel but,
Deep down I may.”
Even if they say it’s not,
Even if they say I feel,
Everything is wrong,
Nothing is real.
(This is the third part. To solve the…drama, I avoided the subject and continued on…I still pretend to feel.)
