sometimes I have a hard time feeling alive.
My breath does not register in my mind.
Often the world feels so alien, surreal.
Am I real?
Do you feel what my words feel? What I feel?
I’m living in a black and white drama
a techno-colored dream
a constant fluctuating wave of inconsistency.
These words are grown out of the soil of my hurt,
out of a malnourished heart.
I feel love from a distance,
Like a patient in a sterile operating room.
I’m fogged by anesthesia .