Adolescent Confusion

To know
To not know
A paradox in the making.
Dry your eyes, my darling
The red does not become you.
To slip into another life
Another you
Or was it you all along?
Did you fade in the world
Fade, not into obscurity
But faded just enough to dull your senses.
Dulled to all that you know
All you hold dear.
The butterfly becomes the moth
The moth seeks the light
To draw the grey from its fragile wings.
I seek the refrain of a lone violin
Calling me on to feel again
To know how to touch
To want
To thrive.
There is an emptiness in my belly.
An emptiness I cannot fill
One that I created.
So I do not feed the nothingness
I do not fill it to the brim.
I enjoy the sensation
Of being oddly unsubstantial.
Feather light
Carried away by a summer’s breeze.
There is no method to my madness
Only the want to survive
Make it through
All those old clichés that inspire to live again
When actually
You never ceased to die.
To know
To not know.
A purgatory of the self.
At least it ceased to burn.
At least it ceased to hurt.