the world and i are so distant today
i am alive: i have a heartbeat and
i'm breathing and thinking,
but i think being alive
is a lot more than that
because i meet the
requirements
of a living being
but i don't feel like one,
not today.
i feel here but not
like life is a movie
that i'm somehow
watching while it happens.
i move on autopilot
like i'm being ordered
to by a director
is this scripted?
me writing this now
is it part of a script?
i'm in my own world
that's adjacent to
this one and i can see it
through the glass
that separates them
i am not here, i am watching life
from the theatre or through
a window or from far away
there are no consequences
because i am not here
and this is not real
will i ever return home?
i don't want to be controlled
i want to open the window
or jump through the screen
and be truly alive again
YOU ARE READING
recycled poetry
Poetry❝i wish i was writing something special, but these words have been used before and there's no originality to it at all. i'm just reusing phrases until they're worn out, like musty library books or hand-me-down clothes.❞ from ❛hand-me-down poetry❜ i...
