Tristan Robert Lange

Funneled into Nothing

Some people say I am rather deep, dramatic and, even more so, terribly wordy.

I suppose this is true when they are around to see and hear me speak aloud;

When they are around—when—as if they are really ever around me at all.

They’re not. During that time I work alone, I walk alone, I talk alone—

At least in my head—I feel like I am the walking dead lumbering

Leaden-like as I haunt my own hallways, spook my own screen.

The words I utter are desperate drawings in my mind,

Pictures that portray a truth I try to suppress—

I feel shame for the thoughts I trap within—

So that I can keep wearing this façade,

This makeup that hides this joker

From this weaponized world.

But when people come

I talk nervously

Because I

Cannot

Stop it.

Epic

Fail.

Just

Drop

It.