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RyeJaack

752d

I want to share a poem I wrote more than a few years ago. It's generally about feeling dissociative- before I even knew what to call it. Would that be helpful? How would I best share it?

Top reply
    • RyeJaack

      674d

      Sculling Technicolor; My reality: like swimming through neon molasses. Distorted pseudo-electric music permeates the thick syrup around me. As I breathe, the air is cool and slow as it creeps down my lungs I’m suffocating in sickly sweet honey. As if running, I make little headway down the oil slicked pavement, Seeing miniature rainbows. I’m stuck struggling in the same landscape I’ve seen every day, But this perverse version doesn’t feel like home. Separated from connection by cellophane, Faces I should know are foreign,  Weaving back and forth as their fish bodies swim by. Some are laughing and chasing each other; Their hackles slither down the back of my neck. I am the only one trapped on the ground. Above, the sky ripples. I want to be immersed in the world around me. I want to be able to interact, make a difference. I've been a bystander far too long. Using all my strength, my pent-up sorrows,  I grab the fabric of this fake reality, ripping it between my hands. But the fabric is skin and bleeds more of the radioactive colors around me. My skin is seared as I struggle through the dimensions. I finally fall into another world. I feel heavy, like gravity is tenfold – But strangely enough, it feels right. As I move to get up I realize the syrup is gone: I’m free. The air is no longer smothering, it’s invigorating. The light is defined, dependable. I get to my feet and start to move, And that becomes a run that Becomes a sprint and I am alive.  (P.s. please do not copy and share, it's mine, I just want feedback here)

    • RyeJaack

      674d

      Sculling Technicolor; My reality: like swimming through neon molasses. Distorted pseudo-electric music permeates the thick syrup around me. As I breathe, the air is cool and slow as it creeps down my lungs I’m suffocating in sickly sweet honey. As if running, I make little headway down the oil slicked pavement, Seeing miniature rainbows. I’m stuck struggling in the same landscape I’ve seen every day, But this perverse version doesn’t feel like home. Separated from connection by cellophane, Faces I should know are foreign,  Weaving back and forth as their fish bodies swim by. Some are laughing and chasing each other; Their hackles slither down the back of my neck. I am the only one trapped on the ground. Above, the sky ripples. I want to be immersed in the world around me. I want to be able to interact, make a difference. I've been a bystander far too long. Using all my strength, my pent-up sorrows,  I grab the fabric of this fake reality, ripping it between my hands. But the fabric is skin and bleeds more of the radioactive colors around me. My skin is seared as I struggle through the dimensions. I finally fall into another world. I feel heavy, like gravity is tenfold – But strangely enough, it feels right. As I move to get up I realize the syrup is gone: I’m free. The air is no longer smothering, it’s invigorating. The light is defined, dependable. I get to my feet and start to move, And that becomes a run that Becomes a sprint and I am alive.  (P.s. please do not copy and share, it's mine, I just want feedback here)

    • Bubble_Nugget

      748d

      I would love to read it, please share it here if you’re still comfortable.

    • Wish

      752d

      I would love to read it as well! You can put it here in the comments so people who are interested can easily find it

    • SunniMay

      752d

      Yes I would share it here .. I’d love to read it

☝ This content is generated by our users and it is not a substitute for professional medical advice. Please consult with your physician before making any medical decision

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