When I said there’s a lot of things going on in my head, I lied. Because there’s nothing my brain could understand or deny; There’s this unknown that envelops my whole being, There’s this unknown that clouds my mind.
Whenever I try to understand the more it gets unclear, The more I try to feel, the more I drift away; Whilst I drift away, I tend to forget, Forgetting makes me numb, makes me worthless.
I am like a century tree standing — As the wind blows straight through me, I remain still, As the rain lashed down, I can’t get to react, As the thunderstorm comes growling in rage, I felt no fear.
I felt very empty like my emotions floating away, All feelings are blocked as if the whole me went astray; In a world of nothingness and creepy emptiness– I would rather dwell on pain and bear sadness.
I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.—Sylvia Plath,
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