Number 3: Realization

I'm real sorry for this ridiculousness. This was just written about 4 minutes ago in about as much time. Don't ask me what this means because I don't know. I'm not sad. I feel... awake; aware of my emotions, goals and weaknesses. Okay, now just read it and I'll apologize more after.

I Taste Smoke.

The distance is unbearable
My feelings still detachable
Commitment’s just not my thing anymore
But I still wanted something
Something not quite real
Something more
As always

My life is just a ticking clock
With every step I take I hear it
Nothing really seems to matter
Except what never did before
And I’m everywhere
But soon I’ll be nowhere
At least to you

So I’m slipping
And twisting
And falling in between these cracks
The ones I thought didn’t exist in me
What was solid is now evaporating
And turning into something less than nothing
Something barely visible
Smoke

And I can taste it.
But maybe it’s all in my head
My mind is trying to warn me
With my eyes and ears closed
And my feeling occupied
The message is sent to my mouth
Which interprets its source as foreign
But it’s internal
again


Sincere apologies for the lack of punctuation/editing. All in good time, my dear friends.

Sorry for all of that mess up there. Thanks for listening.

My apologies,
Kirstyn B. Showalter