mind

A Weight of its Own

I used to feel an aching sorrow
in my chest
as if every mistake I had ever
made had been piled on top
of me

and although I have since been
relieved of that weight
I do no feel light
I do not feel free
Like a soaring bird heading
to find warmth

all I feel is anticipation
for a journey to a
destination I am still
uncertain of
and that is a weight
of its own

I am but a window
and my eyes only see
what they want me to see
and while your words effect this body,
this heart has very carefully shut itself away.
I watch myself live my life as a passive viewer,
an uninterested audience member
and only occasionally do I stop to question if this is reality
when I feel as if I am only a pawn in a video game,
alive but not quite living

Scattered

Scattered
As if every thought
Every stream of consciousness
Is to no avail
And I know not who I am
I have only ever learned
To examine myself in pieces
Lost fragments of time and space
That do not quite match up anymore
But my puzzle is beyond scattered
So far lost and broken
That to start anew
Would be much more sensible
Than to search for myself
In the nooks and crannies
Of this mundane world
Straining to see
The distant pops of color
That might still be lingering
Somewhere within
The soiled depths of my mind