I’m sitting in history right now, the teacher is talking and I can hear him but I can’t understand the words. I can’t filter them through the thoughts in my head. I feel like crap right now but I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling, it feels like sadness but it’s not, and my therapist told me to recognize my emotions based on what sensation I’m feeling in my body. But all I can feel is an empty pit in my stomach and that’s just hunger, and maybe an ache in my chest, pulling down on my heart, but I always feel that and it’s just normal. It’s just normal, right?
I feel like I’m going to throw up all the nothing I’m feeling, all the nothing inside me. I should be feeling something, feeling anything, but all there is in my chest is emptiness. I don’t feel, and have I ever really felt?
I think I feel heavy, but I don’t know what I feel, I’ll never know what I feel. I’m not human, I'm incapable of being human. Humans can hold things, and keep holding, but everything I grasp fades away and slips out of my hand, turning to dust and was it ever really there?
And maybe humans make errors but I make too many, more than can be counted.
I walk towards flowers and they wilt, the leaves and petals turn brown and fall off. Those same flowers when I try to water them and care for them, I give them too much and they die, they die because I tried to keep them alive. Those flowers stick to me, braided into a crown of thorns that sits upon my head.
And vines and weeds overgrow me, spiders make webs in my hair. The spiders are my only friends, and they sit with me.
I’m sitting in history right now, with the spiders and the vines and weeds and the crown of dead flowers and thorns and the empty pit with all the nothingness all tangled together to make one inhuman monstrosity, incapable of feeling and holding, to heavy to be held, that can hear but cannot understand the words, that can think but not speak the thoughts.
