I need someone to know. More importantly I need to know that someone feels and genuinely understands the depths of what words cannot explain.

I know now that words just don’t matter. Agony, torment, anguish, devastation, horrific. But I have to use them so you can associate some feeling to what has and is happening to me.

I was escorted like a criminal to a mental ward in a foreign place where they took my clothes, my shoes. And I was quietly in rooms with people talking to the walls and laughing followed by odd spurts of crying and mumbling.
And what quiet, pained thing I realized was that something in
Side of me belonged with them. Whatever brought them here
Brought me here. And no matter where they were born or how
Old they were or if they deserved this it felt like we were siblings.
A family of knowing.
And what makes me quiet. What utterly devastates me is that once my mind broke open I fell into an eternal, rapid spiral of agony that will never ever end.
And do not mistake it, it is not exactly the terror of psychosis, or of being afraid of dots ont eh ground or hiding in a bathtub in fear of nothing. It is this:
I will never perceive the way I did when I was
Five and nine and twelve. Or the way you do.
Or the way you do..
Rooms will never look the same. Fabrics will always appear different and I will forever be prisoner of my lucid dreams, sitting inside of them willing escape.
But there is this.
If in a moment of a day I feel calm,
I can sense the faintest twinge of
Nerves cascading down my spine
As if my brain were producing chemicals
Coercing a feeling of appropriate perception
And simply something invaluable.
Something that can only be bestowed
And not obtained.
I do not try to keep it in a box.
Or save it.
Or hide it from my fears.
Or anticipate its loss.
I very calmly sit beside myself under the sun and un-know.
I pretend I am naive and a young feeling caresses my cerebellum
And I become the shining glimmer of what I envision freedom is.
And some time passes as the dark things collide at me.
Fast and expected like a storm or war.
It is not a stolen thing.
It is not the keys you cannot find.
It cannot be avenged or created.
Or saturated in memory.
It is a fleeting moment of feeling.
Then I slowly collapsed into mysterious water and do not feel real.