1.
Something has happened.
I can feel it- I see mouths
moving and lips twisting
around words and I can
feel the heartbeat of
something in my chest.
Is that me? Is the heart mine?
For a moment, I do not
feel real. The world blinks
out temporarily- almost
too fast to be noticed until
later, when I am staring up
at my ceiling, and insomnia
is staring right back at me.
I am fumbling for the strings,
for the reins, for something,
please- there are lights
flashing, is that an officer
pulling me over? Wait, but
am I not on a sidewalk?
Or is this a road? Am I a deer
in headlights, the deer my
father sent to hell? Rudolph
did not commit enough sins
to deserve that south bound
trip. Is it my turn to go next?
2.
I’m reaaaalllly confused.
Please, just pause a moment.
Or 2. Or 45, the more the
better because this world
is not just revolving- but God
has smacked the globe so
hard that I am dizzy from
just how fast it is spinning.
Are you asking me questions?
Do you expect to get any
answers from me? Hell, I
am not even sure what my
name is right now. I am
speedrunning through my
mental code to try and
figure it out- every college
drop out worker in my brain is
trying to decode what is going on.
3.
I get maybe half of it.
I understand what you are
saying, a little bit, but what
do you want from me? I can
try and add an anecdotal-
would you like a story? Or is
that too narcissistic? I can
add a piece advice- no?
You do not want help? I am
so sorry. I am just trying to be
what you want. What you need.
I try to step in, I try to
maneuver my way through,
but every turn has already
been spoken for. Every person
is already involved. Every
piece of the cast has already
been taken- was there an
audition for friendship that I
missed out on? Is there a script
for conversation that slipped
out from between my fingers?
Why does everyone know when
and what to say, except for me?
4.
Oh, it is finally my chance
at speaking! I open my mouth…
and words will not form. I can
not convince my muscles
to move. What was I going to
even say? My neurons have a
bad case of social anxiety-
my brain is tying itself into a
knot so it will not have to
perform in front of everyone
else. What is the point of even
attempting to think when every
thought has a self-detonation?
I am trying my best to be apart of
it all, but it is killing me to even try.
My temporal lobes are
committing kamikaze, my
frontal lobe has turned
around a “Closed Sign”
on its front door- my ears
have become nothing but
accessories to remind me
of my failures. What is the
point of having a body if it
does not want to work?
What is the point of
existing if it will never be
in the right kind of way?
5.
I am always late.
I will always be a step or a
mile behind of everyone else.
There is nothing that can
change that. No amount of
early starts can change
the fact that in the middle
of the race, my legs will seize
and my spine will paralyze.
People keep commending
me on my adaptability-
that implies I am changing
to keep myself from dying off.
If I am getting better,
why am I still so far behind?
If all of this is what I
am supposed to do,
why was I not made
this way to begin with?