The silence in my room,
Paired with the ruckus in my head,
Feels so surreal...
Like I'm not me...
Like this is not my reality
The emptiness of my heart,
With the fullness of my tear glands
Feels ironically sad...
Like I'm not me...
Like this is not my reality
Alas! The commotion of the world outside matches that in my head,
They cancel out...
I feel like I'm in my reality,
Like I'm me again
The sun of the world outside dries my eyes out
And only then do my eyes and my heart share a thing in common-
Desolation and dissertation
I feel like I'm me again...
Like I'm finally back in my reality
A thought disrupts this pseudo peace of mine,
It's small and light, almost like a whisper...
It says, 'Wait till you get back to your room',
My demeanor shifts almost immediately
I start to question what my reality really is
Who I really am.
But the thought of my room scares me,
So that's all I think about
When I'm in the world outside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like you were able to compare your room to your thoughts, sometimes whenever I'm in my room that's when my thoughts are the loudest it drowns me, console me and consume me, that I forget about how time passes and what's happening in the world and it's all I think about whenever I'm outside.