Borderline

This throbbing of my insides,
this melancholic tribal inner wanderlust,
this fatal longing for something impalpable,
this unnameable emotionless urge.
This, this leaves me empty,
yet propels me onward
Hoping to annihilate entropy with emotion,
I go about the living rituals.
I invest, I sacrifice, I compromise…
Yet entire understanding escapes me by mere steps,
this I know,
but logic is a failure
I come to mistrust and mistrusting trust brings me
back around to the beginning.
The things I see at times have no names.
I myself am the nameless creature of dubious profession,
notorious for that which is impolite to be admitted,
the truth reveals itself in inconveniences and fate
the faith can make a discrepancy between shame and being shunned.
I fight idiosyncrasies of my own making,
I draw imaginary lines in my mind
hoping to segregate the good behaviors from the bad,
the problem flux from this knowledge, from this world.
I try to change the patterns that I try to tell myself
were long ago instilled by someone else.
I walk the border between denial and vacancy,
with open eyes to find my hand are still in front of me,
my feet are still attached
and my organs still manufacture liquids that cause me to have strange dreams.
I have heard that nothing can be created that doesn’t already exist,
somewhere, somewhere, somewhere.
I must try to contain my thoughts in this constricting box that is
this world, this experience, this instant.
I invest, I sacrifice, I compromise
I invest, I sacrifice, I compromise