Real Human

I lay on the grass today, it wasn’t warm outside

It was blowy and I felt alive

having to hide my eyes with my sleeve,

Nestling to keep a bit of heat and a feeling of safeness in the conditions

Brought something out of me.

I think it was my real human,

A real human in me.

Certain sensations, bring her out,

Like being sick.

Other things don’t matter as much when you’re lying on your front in the cold.

Have you ever been really unwell?

The kind of ill where you’re lying on the bathroom floor because the bed would simply be too far away from a place to vomit,

And the feeling of the cold lino on your cheek is actually vaguely pleasant on your clammy skin, at least compared to how your insides feel?

Those moments make me remember who and what I am most of all.

The real human in me.

I’ve felt euphoric a handful of times,

I can think of one off-hand,

It was at a club in London,

Glow sticks were aglow (not mine though)

I stepped onto the dance floor,

Felt the bass run through my feet,

And I was a battery.

Briefly, I was electrified,

I closed my eyes and let the current take me in,

Or rather I took the current and let it bounce under my skin.

But what I’m saying, is that it didn’t feel like me,

I became the battery and I floated out of myself a bit,

I looked down at me gleefully.

That wasn’t my real human,

The feeling of being high up was so unfamiliar.

Feeling low is different, more familiar to me.

That feels like my real human- do you not agree?

 

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