Have you ever had that feeling --
that self-destructive, reverse Déjà vu-esque,
sad, some form of nostagic,
feeling,
where you can not
remember why you are sad?
Why you are so,
so sad?
You ask yourself,
"Why am I sad, again?"
You tell yourself
to remember.
To remember everything
you have tried so hard
to forget.
Everything that
you wish you never
remembered.
Why?
But it's as if your mind
has purposely buried it beneath
numbness, rocks, and desperation,
just so you can dig it up again?
So you can feel that
transformation from
numbness to despair,
again?
Again?
Again?
Again?
Again?
(And again?)
Which is worse?
No feeling or negative feeling?
Is there any other option?
I don't remember,
hold on.
(Please, contact me, if there is one found.)
YOU ARE READING
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PoetryA collection of tragedies of sorts, of demons or angels (whatever you'd fancy to call them) that lurk and/or gleam in my mind. Written when the moon's dreary and the sun's near awakening. Obnoxiously metaphoric, subtly inspirational. © Jake Sullivan...
