Flood

The feeling you get when you feel robbed by life and your own existence

Why
    am I sat here anticipating
                                        my existence?

Why
    am I not conjoined with
                                    sweet sanity?

Why
    do I sit here, rocking
                                back and forth, back and forth?

Desire.    Coldness.    Nothingness.
Life quieting into a paralyzing silence,
Unheard words turning me black and blue,
The pressure, bringing on the inner flood.