Sometimes I get lost, and I can’t quite explain it.
I’m not floating through an ocean
Or running through a forest
My foot is not stuck beneath some rock
And my mind is not searching for a word.
I’m not somewhere foreign: Europe, Asia, Russia, China
I’m not anywhere–
But I am everywhere–
All at once–
As if I’m stretching through all places, times, people, things
Lost–
Searching–
Caught–
And yet, ironically–
There is a cold, hollowness to it.
There is a fatigue attached.
That weighs you down, further and further
That pulls at your shoulder blades as you lean over your phone
lean into a kiss that’s undeserved, and a friend, even more undeserved of your words–
lean into your knees, clutching at your stomach, that churns and churns the pounds of rot you’ve eaten.
I’ve consumed so much.
And yet, I am hollow.
With only the pain reverberating throughout that silence,
The pain that comes when you know–when you just know.
There must be something better, than this,
L Ost InC onsumPtion.
