Confliction

Confliction, confusion.

The world made bright.

Fearful of the end,

Broken, yet simultaneously saved.

Mixture of feeling, confused.
Happy and also sad,
Missing something.
My ability to comprehend.

My ecstatic excitement filled,
While also fearful worry lingers,

My bipolar shifts from happiness, to worry, to sadness, to happiness.
All offering painful confusion.

Shaken to the core,
Worried yet also happy.

Sad to the confliction of my predicament.
Sad to my required bipolar world.

The place that confines me.

The feelings that control, use, abuse and break me.

Tearing my mind apart.

The confliction;
I am happy.
I am sad.
I am worried.
I am excited, enthusiastic, embarrassed and apprehensive.

A plethora of feeling
Opposites, simultanously felt.
My feelings wrapping themselves around me,
Holding me tightly,
Constricting,

Ripping me apart.

Leaving me confused.

Leaving me with conflict.

Emotions. A roller-coaster.
An ever-moving shift.
Hurtful, yet happy.
Sad, yet also happy.

The feelings I cannot explain,
The emotions I cannot control.

My life controlled without my understanding.

The confliction, my emotions, thoughts and feelings.

I am happy.
I am sad.
I am in conflict.
I am… Me.

Pleasant Surprise

Pleasant surprise,

Nice intervention,

A world from anew,

A place not seen before.

The crazy, excited, ecstatic feeling.

The kindness and intelligence.

A world shown.

Thrown from my own,

Complete surprise.

Through this contentment.

A crazy revelation,

Crazy existence.

My place.

The crazy feeling.

Ecstatic and total. Crazy and looms

Empty Loss

This empty loss,
Alien feeling.
Dissatisfied with comfort,
Confusing feelings.

A storm out of nowhere,
Consuming me from within.
Incomprehensible,
Left empty, empty loss, without feeling.

Death from nothing.
Mourning started before the total loss.

The dark shroud to come,
The empty abyss that comes from bliss,
Incomprehensible,
the loss, and the emptiness.

An alien infection,
Suddenly coming over me,
For no reason.

Feeling left my mind.
A loss to the world.
Frozen out of existence.

Fearful,
Of hurting my friends,
Those I hold dear.

Needing to drift off,
Away into darkness,
A figment, a distant memory.

The empty figure.
Unfeeling.
The empty loss.

Leaving out the door,
Without looking back.

Wondering, hoping.
Leaving,
With my empty loss,
The only friend I can’t hurt,
My only possession.

The dark figure,
Leaving,
An empty loss,
A scar on the world.

Drifting into the dark abyss,
Of emptiness,
Of loss.

In The Face Of The Wasteland

In the face of the wasteland,
The uncertainty to come,

Left alone in emptiness,
This wasteland I find myself in.

Wasting away in the searing sun.
Pushing on.

Defying my Gods in the wasteland.
Clearing my past.

My memories return.
Painful reminders of my many mistakes…
They pierce my soul.

Remind me of the failures,
Reminds me of existence.
In the wasteland of being.

Barren, dry and dead.

Moving on and searching for the oasis ahead.

Making my path forward.

Trying to kill the memories.
All my memories.

To wipe my mind to a blank state.

To stand. Within my empty mind. To face a barren wasteland.
Rather than the piercing wind of memory.

The Inevitable End

The inevitable end,

The longing,

The waiting.

Mourning before the end,

Premature loss.

Unsettled feeling,

Worried about the end,
Living the present,
The world tinged with the loss to come.

The time to end,

The barren landscape to come,
Waiting for the oasis.

And on comes this inevitable end.

To have taken what I’ve waited for.

To push past until the next time.

The next wonderful time.
The next inevitable end.

Feeling

Feeling, fleeting and far,

Away and inaccessible,

Tangible yet also alien,

My unfamiliarity.

Alienated from feeling.

Cold and confused.

Doing without feeling,

Confused and wondering.

How this feeling.

Or lack of feeling.

Without knowing why.

Why, I walk through, why I’m slipping, like sand through my fingers.

Like water through the cracks.

The help, kindness and care from others, for others.

Yet the feeling. Or lack.

The emptiness, a holo pit within me.

I do not know why.

The feeling.

Continued moving.

Life goes on,

Through, within and with, this feeling.

Pure Logic.

Walking, emotionless, observing and being.

Sitting in place, thinking, pure logic,

An answer to every question, one dominating your thinking, always providing the answer.

Never the feeling.

Oh the emptiness of logic.

Even knowing, can be empty without feeling.

This pure logic. That surrounds me.

To rationalise and deconstruct.

To render empty, to demystify.

Feelings eroding, and fading,
Into a distant poast memory.

Left only with logical thinking.

A way that never causes pain.
How could it?
There is no feeling?

Logic strikes back.
A voice making all seen.
Rendering everything visible.
But taking away its point, its reason.
And instead leaving it bare.

Unable to see past it.

Into the floodgates of reality.

Able to see,
To walk past and smile,
To talk and meet all that may come.

This logic.

Able to make all clear,
But feelings left empty.
Left with pure logic.

Severing The Mind

Severing the mind,
Ending the feeling,

Erasing my appraisal,
Leaving hollow comprehension.

Emptying the hurt and angst with rage,
To then let go of it all.

To be an observant shell,
A seeing actor,
An empty being.
A barely being.

From sight of site to moving on.
To the next place,
The lonely figure, to travel and understand.

The path,
Only gained by empty sight,
Through unending emptiness,
A path gathered with the emptying of the mind.
The severing of ties,
The hollowing out of feeling.
Cannibalising my mind of feeling.

Leaving it empty and bare,
Understanding left to reign supreme.

A sense of control given this choice,
Not blocked by feeling.
Not hindered by pressure.
Only the choice given and the choice made.

The freedom for change.

The severing of the mind.

Into The Howling Storm

Into the howling of the storm,
The echoes of a dark past,
The breaking of day,

The blood-warm memories,
The icy wind piercing at your side,

The becoming, the drain.
The movement, into the howling storm.

With control, with content, the slipping into darkness,
Into oblivion and existential angst.

The price of knowing, of knowledge,
The refusal not to see.

The reality others ignore,
The way it goes,
The meaningless words,
Fruitless promises.

My only,
Trusted possession.
My promise,
My goal, and determination.

To keep me company,
As I walk, laughing, into the howling storm.

Numbing The Pain

Numbing the pain,

Feeling empty,

Dark and cold, all around, to the touch.

Mindless monster, dead being.

Trudging on, unfeeling, numb.

A wreck of the past.

A wound on the world.

A chasm of despair.

The state of being, pain at losing life’s treasures held close.

Ripped from the arms,

Followed by the dark storm, the empty silence and coldness.

Piercing and digging like razors, sharp tendrils into by abdomen. Into my heart and core.

But…

But.

I feel nothing, numbness to pain that comes from its constancy.

Numbing my pain.

Bringing it in. Bringing it close.

Fully reckoning it.

Feeling it.

Until that is all I am.

A numbed pain. Constant. A broken thing. A wound of existence. A storm of calm rage. Outside Alice, while dead inside.