Maybe I've become so irreparably broken
all my feelings are just shadows of real emotion.

Every sensation feels slightly staged.

Every image a f r  a   c    t     i      o       n.
Every step
a
break
down.

Every year another calendar.
Every day a number.
Every minute a ticking
cage made of fear.
Every moment a
fragmented memory.

Every time you try on a new personality,
it clings to you in all the wrong places.

Every day the sun runs away from the horizon.
I've been living below the horizon for far too long.

I like to think I'm the sun,
in this scenario.
Maybe I used to be. But now we both know
I'm its shadow. Or shadows.
I haven't decided yet.

I cling to objects and people,
shielding myself from the flood,
living in the cold.

I'm the result of blocked light.
Doesn't that just say it all...

So I said no. I was sick of it.
I was sick of being obvious,
of being everything and everywhere,
of being so bright it hurt everyone's eyes
and they could never see me
in any real detail.

I'm temporary now.
I take the shape of the
things I cling to...
although I do tend to distort.

I adapt and I change.
I grow and I shrink.
I envelope and I fade away
to barely anything. But I always exist,
somewhere.

And I think I'm finally okay with that.

Maybe I've finally figured what it means to be a person.

People used to wait for me to come out,
build their days around me and use me
to ensure their happiness. Now
they run to me for cover
when they've had too much.
Or at least more than they anticipated.

My eyes are the windows and
my mind is the marker.
Sometimes they like to lose the eraser.

Whether drawing it makes it so,
I have no idea.
But it makes it real for a moment,
for a memory.

Every image a blur.
Every step a circle.
Every year a lifetime.
Every day a letter.
Every minute
a minute later.
Every moment
you're alive: ...
Every image a blur. 

I like repetition because it
creates a memory
within a moment.