Poetry: Unreal

Not a real person

Photo by Joshua Sukoff on Unsplash

I'm not a real person
Just tired skin that smarts too much 
Just neurons reacting lazily 
To hell sites and thoughts of doom 
And unwantedness 

I'm not a real person
Just a hermit in a borrowed shell 
Hiding out until the clownfish pass 
To catch winks/ Of oblivion 

I'm not a real person 
Wouldn't I feel my face?
There would be more to me
Than pockets of pain 
Arranged aesthetically 

I'm not a real person
You'd walk right through me 
And if you knew you'd laugh 
Sheerly at the novelty

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Reactions to Traumatic Events, and Recovery

In My Veins