Surfacing from half-conscious thoughts...
The world around me is split in half.
Energy from 'home' verses 'where I am'...
Dueling, they are for my vision.
Senses amuck,
Confusion- Ruckus!
Sickening heat radiating off my skin...
Breathe, the thought is almost a whisper.
Inhale, the sweat sticks to my vessel.
Mentally, I'm a mess.
What language should I compute my thoughts in?
Only one. Fluent in only one.
Fluid motions blur as actions become reactions.
Everything that I do is not meant with intention.
Drunk on this sickness that takes me home.
The heat reminds me of home where the environment is dry.
Yet, I am here.
Soaking in sweat...
Part of it from sickness-
And part of it from the environment's jest.
Closing my eyes, my head begins to spin.
Set on auto-pilot, my body rummages through clumsy movements.
Words becomes suggestions and my translating sector is down.
By the time I realize the message, the conversation has turned upside down.
Dormant. All I want is to be dormant.
Try to make sense of this, later I shall.
How does my world divide when I go into 'survival mode'
Does this mean that I never left home yet I have?
-
May 16 2019
YOU ARE READING
Assurgent Construction
PuisiA poetry collection of an American Filipino. the following expresses his thoughts and emotions as he studies abroad. This is the second book in Culture Distortion.
