My Emotions

When the waves crash, rolling in from the west, I see the black void that doesn’t even dissappear; it sits like a tangible pall of pain reflecting all of my lost desires and hopes. A ship might pass by in the thick distance, its tiny light searching through the murk of my thoughts, looking for me where I can’t be found. From one feeling to the next, each despair carries me to hope, and hope leads me back to the void where nothing exists. No one is there, and a wall extends high above me, coated with the wind-blown dust of my life. A short walk down a street where the yellow lamps outline circles on the ground at various spots; a cruel grin from some passerby who doesn’t know me; the dread of having to eventually turn around and walk home; how the madness seeps from the day before into the next, where the placid reality–the vigorous and vibrant pain–never escapes from the prison that is my mind.

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