Watered Down Existentialism

I spend most of my evenings
Deciphering what I feel
In the moments when I am wondering
If this life is at all real

This flesh that swirls and curves
On nimble fingertips
I wiggle for my eyes to see
To ensure that I exist

My alarms sounds obliviously
To my ever need to rest
Again I am caught by surprise
At the drumming in my chest

I wash these arms, these legs
I comb my hair in place
I squint at my reflection
Still unaccustomed to this face

My name, my name, is called
That title belongs to me
Someone has taken notice
And chosen me to speak

They look for me at functions
I’ve yet to understand this
I grow uncomfortable with the notion
That I was somehow missed

The bills are also addressed to me
My paycheck is equally so
My boss looks for me on the job
It’s expected that I should go

No appetite but my body begs
To be filled when I desire naught
I wonder why it’s always in need
For things I do not want

The years are accumulating
But I can hardly tell the days
How odd that I am another year more
When all the days have felt the same

I surely cannot imagine
That tomorrow will ignite
Amongst the dreary dread
Which has extinguished today’s light

It’s difficult to comprehend
This world which beckons and calls
For me to accept my existence
When most times I want to be nothing at all


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