Hallucinogen

It’s all in the mind—

this desperation.

(?)

It’s leaving me quivering,

unable to handle the flow of this

melancholic soliloquy;

I can’t stand in a crowded room without feeling like the spot light’s on me.

I can’t stand in an empty room without hoping someone will walk through the door,
because I feel so alone.

I

just want

something

I

can’t name—

—maybe

instant gratification;

the pleasure of sharing the night

with another person

and the emptiness when dawn breaks
and they’re gone.

Or maybe something a little less defined,

like waking up and realizing

I’m the only one left alive.

I can see this alternate reality.

With rusted swingsets;

without children,

they aren’t used in years,

except by me,

while i

kick with my feet to gain

momentum,

and reach my hands out to the sky

and to
God…

This feeling is only in the mind.

Yet I feel it in my heart.

(?)

I

what it is,

this desperation

—it’s been so long since I was asked, I forgot its name.

copyright Marie Meyers, 2016

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