Empty poetry;

As long as I don't loose myself

I'm tired and bleeding.
I am inspired and unashamed.

Also full of excitment and happiness.
Impatently waiting for my next crapiness.

Maybe I am loosing myself.
Overflown from emotions. Not realising what I am feeling.
Unaware of myself. I still keep breathing.

Living without time, nothing is exciting.
Having so many plans with unknown lifespan.
Honestly, it's drenching.

Howling at the big mountains.
I'm barricaded by my surroundings.
The claustrophobia is pounding.

Feels like I'm observing the world without my soul. Out of my body disconnected, nothing feels right.
Not sure if my reaction is alright.

Everything feels strange, almost like an illusion.
Feeling happy and sad is an weird fusion.
Leading me to an longlasting confusion.

It's all okay when I'm still functioning and not overwhelmed.
As long as I'm not loosing myself.

Yet.