A Different Kind of Tired DHR
I yearn to silence this constant static,
The immutable humming
Always in the back of my mind.
I long to cease the feeling of feeling—
To be able to relax finally
Without thoughts flooding my mind
In an unstoppable wave that sweeps my energy with it
The existential fatigue, the kind
that leaves my hands detached and cold
in a derealized world of fog.
A reality distorted, as if fabricated.
It's the place where faintness feels non-physical,
But like a state of mind one slips into—
An untethered dream, where certainty is doubted.
Yet, I still cherish life.
For the moments of warmth and love
Pull me up from this haze, above the clouds.
But I wish not for an after,
Where my soul must linger in immortalization;
I wish for my soul to simply
Dissipate…
To be freed like evaporated water
Returning to the sky,
To experience life before life.
The glare of my dissent carves in a distance
Between my thoughts and the woven fabric
Of a society where for most, God is savior
Yet a being I refuse to acknowledge.
For if He exists, then even in His heaven,
I remain damned.
The apprehension of my psyche hides,
Behind my ribs— the lassitude of self-awareness.
So I crave an eternal oblivion,
My senses dissolved within the void.
I wait for the internal noise to mute—
Without pain
And without death.
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