i don't feel well. something's not right; i'm not sure what it is. lately, nothing's been feeling right. my room's been looking darker than usual, so have my shiny eyes. i'm pretty sure my lungs have been too, they haven't been too friendly to the air trying to settle in for the past few days. we're kind of the same if you think about it – we keep blocking out the one thing we need to stay alive. i've been having headaches a lot more often too. i think it has to do with my thoughts crashing constantly, the war already taking place in my mind not seeming to have left enough wreckage for them. i'm not sure i'm even real anymore; the movements my mirror's been reflecting don't seem very normal to me, and the sounds my ceiling's been repeating aren't exactly reassuring. whatever i turn out to be – or they classify me as, i know won't be true. i know what i am – or so i think, at least. i have many selfs. i am a combination of numerous personalities; each belonging to a different world. there's the first self that has blossomed inside a ground shaking volcano for ages, feeding on fire and rage in order to stay alive. then comes the second self; the one who was brought to life between the waves of the ocean and matured enough to put the first self to sleep in seconds. then comes the third self who flies through the clouds carelessly, floating wherever the wind is willing to take it, with not one worry to carry on its lights shoulders. the fourth self has been sewn by stars, and in its black hole resembling eyes flow the brightest galaxies. its greatest quality is that it has been raised in the void – as bright as it burns, it feels nothing and can turn you into just that. as for the fifth self, it has been carved in the trunk of the toughest trees, spreading its vein-like roots into the hard ground. i could go on forever; my selfs are endless. although, i can't keep up with them, each one molds into a different shape every day. which leads me to the fact that i actually don't know who – nor what i am. i don't think i ever will.
YOU ARE READING
as quiet as a fire
Poetryyou have my heart and mind in your hands now. i hope you have a safe trip. but read at your own risk, i can't promise you'll come out alive.