A part of me feels like this is a fever dream
Like everything is happening, passing me by,
Surreal, a pebble among many, placed firmly,
Still, despite the flow of sensations.
I’ve since found an approximation of peace, what it means to me,
Transient — elusive — within reach, on a good day. And then I wake up.
I materialize my castle in the realm of darkness and light
But I keep my co-ordinates a secret,
Because when you share your foundation with the world
There will always be idiots hellbent on testing it.
I know a lot, but not enough to root myself in ideologies
People praise my intelligence, but I continue to question it often,
Debunking my own assumptions.
I refuse to be a part of any community; averse to group-think.
I kill my ego like I breathe oxygen
All to continue being a sponge; receptive to the flow of new experiences.
I don’t internalize compliments because people rarely mean what they say.
There’s the universe that exists within me, and the universe that exists outside
Poetry is the cryptograph, the mediator — tether, between me and those that are willing
Willing, to peek into the sunless parts of my mind. It’s dark here.
Sometimes I feel like an imposter.
I feel like an imposter until I remember that I’ve fallen victim again
Fallen victim again, to the percolative effect of participating in our shared reality
Our shared reality makes everyone a subject
A subject to encroaching values and metrics
Values and metrics that were never mine
Never mine, and yet they hold onto me tight
So I dismember all foreign limbs and set a date for a future appointment.
Because noone else will go through the trouble of maintaining my Kingdom;
And even if they miraculously manage to, it won’t live up to my standard.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: theirison