It bums me out that I doubt whether I’m real


I feel dumb for the fact that I can barely feel


I’ve become detached from myself and need to reseal

How can I heal this scar?

How can I deal with the bar that separates my consciousness from the rest of me?

What will I be if my identity is no entity I can Classify?

This detachment requires more effort to try and enjoy the small things that life brings my way

Yesterday, today and tomorrow will need to borrow a bit of perspective to change my directive

Because I have lost my detective attitude for understanding and appreciating all that is around

And I’m debating this bound feeling that’s reeling me away from all that I love

All that I used to love

All that I hope I can love again

All that I want to love

I can see their uses but my biology loses its care for everything

And as I stare into the eyes of myself I realize

I’m dead

Because I no longer care if I live

Sure I wish to avoid pain

Yes I would prefer less distain

But I understand I may never appreciate gain

And I feel very plain

Boring, dull, and insane

The first two don’t usually play with the last

But I’ve surpassed my crazy and overwhelmed it with a docile demeanor

And maybe its not me, and I just need a cleaner view of the world

Maybe I’m just covered in spots of Apathy and lethargy

And that’s all I can see

That would explain how every few days I get bursts of ecstasy

A feeling so warm and tight

It fills me with delight and all of my light starts to shine through

But when that’s through

Its back to the blue numb true dumb Due to What I’ve become

Scum that’s stuck here, waiting to disappear

-Nick Goodman

South Lake Union Graf



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Global artists and writers dedicated to sharing creativity around the world.

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