Secretly Craving

Yearning for the cool sheets,

   surrounding the mattress worn into my shape,

      I force myself to continue.

Ignoring gravity,

   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,

         clear 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,

      shut down,

          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” 

   as solution…

      …not-so-secretly craving rather than being.

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