"The moment you reach for the light, that is the moment that you've given up on yourself."
It was dark.
Something scuttled across the room.
His sight was obscured by the absence of light.
He could see, yet he couldn't.
His arms were free.
And so was the rest of him.
His body was tensed up for it.
He could to move, yet he couldn't.
Then everything was quiet.
All was silent except his ragged breathing.
The silence was unbearable.
His hearing was fine, but it was nothing that he heard.
The putrid smell defiled the room.
Surrounding him like a deathly shroud.
Filling his eyes, ears, and nose.
He could smell, but he didn't have a choice.
It was the taste.
That all so familiar taste.
You know that taste?
Yes. He knows it too.
This poem depicts a boy who has no control over himself, bodily and mentally;
Or does he not?
In this life, we are usually faced with facts and choices we do not want to make; yet we have to.
Do we not?
In some ways, I am that boy; yet in others, I am not.
What am I? Who am I?
I know not of.
I question my sanity.
Do you not?
Do you not?
Do you not?
Erratic Behaviour
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