Yearning for the cool sheets,
surrounding the mattress worn into my shape,
I force myself to continue.
I remain perpendicular to the floor.
I stand, I sit, & I struggle to remain alert.
I walk through air,
objectively normal air,
measurably fresh air,
But the factually nonresistant air pushes,
against my whole body as I take each step.
I struggle to walk,
through neck-high water.
Clouds of emotion contort,
what my mind knows to be.
Like a dream in which you can’t quite awake,
clarity is there,
but I can’t quite get to it.
I know I’m asleep.
My emotions protect,
from too much.
Too much change,
too much stimulation,
too much self-expectation,
and not enough self-forgiveness.
This is human,
this is now,
this will not last.
I struggle to be with my emotions.
Not-so-secretly seeing “being with my emotions”
…not-so-secretly craving rather than being.