In between dead lines

I’d stare at the ceilings for hours
Spend many minutes beneath the showers
Took a train ride, only to return moments later
I’m not feeling better

I hoped what I felt was clear,
Not sure how to translate it though.
Repeating the question “why, how” inside,
“I’m not sure, sorry.”

I’ve had many moments,
Yet I sat amidst grief
In lament of such peace
Yet time flies, and I’ll still be under these flickering yellow lights

And I tried to remind myself
It will be okay,
I’d remind myself of all the memories
“Somehow they’re sweet but bitter in the end.”

“My eyes are swollen again,”
“I can’t sleep,” I’ve been feeling a little less than less lately
Not that I’m numb
Just, in a constant state of tiresome

One day just felt like the rushing waves of the ocean
Enveloping me with warmth comfortably
Another would feel less than it is,
Like moments you woke up one day, and you have no idea what you’re about to do

“I’ve constantly felt that way,”
Like I said, not in a long run
Moments before I was able to finally shut my eyes
And dive deep into a pitch-black world

And the next day, I would feel fine,
“I guess I’m just lonely.”
At times,
I guess I am lonely most of the time.

“It’s a pity you know.”
It can be so peaceful, it can be so dreadful
“Is that a distinct fear you have?”
He stopped me from blabbering even further.

“Yes.”
“And, how are you feeling now?”
I chuckled as the last bit of question comes through
“Well, I’m having a conversation with myself, through words.”