Tenacity is called for in fighting the ominous battle with
melancholia.
Time goes by and I am well of aware of the imminent;
there is nothing to do but accept our destiny.
I feel like a stranger to myself, idling about waiting for nothing,
all the while busy in the day to day happenings.
I am patient for the day when the clouds lift and I am pulled from the depths and into the light.
Even so there is always that low level of despair that lingers...
©A. Harris 2017

my skin feels tight
my eyes not my own
familiarity is a distant memory
I cannot remember when my body was content with belonging to me
I run my numb fingertips through my unwashed hair, searching for any type of reassurance
my room is cluttered and my body unclean
nothing here is mine
if identity is supposed to evolve, and change as you do,
then why did I wake up this morning in someone else's skin?
today, I would rather diminish completely then continue in a body reinvented

teeth clenched
shoulders aflame
fingers outreached
my abs feel constricted

calves cramped
thighs tightened
body lengthened
my abs feel constricted

I radiate with heat
I am burning
I am on fire

Woke up in a mosh pit
Swinging , reactive , faster each minute
The band was raging but their location was hidden
The 'cotton' was still blooming
My head was trippin'
Lost in my dead ride with no gas in it* ..