What It Means To Be Human

I feel this emptiness within me.
Deprivation? Loneliness?
It’s hard to say.
Should I go to a doctor
and list off my symptoms?
Or should I just live day after day
In my invisible dilemma?
Solidarity is something I thrive on.
Is there even a diagnoses
For my combination of flaws?
Irregular breathing,
The longing at the end of the day
and aches in my ribcage.
There’s a sinking feeling in my chest,
as if an anchor, tied to my lungs
Slowly sinks down toward my spine
Yet my heart still beats
A consistent ,familiar rhythm–
syncopated and Lethargic.
Repetition– insanity? Not exactly.
Repetition– Comfort? Maybe.
Am I overthinking again? Most likely.
I walk with my head held unsure,
But insecurity is the only thing
I can confidently admit to.
Isn’t that unfair?
Well life is like that I hear–
A contradiction an imperfect balance.
At least mine’s irony
And irony is art–
And art is beautiful right?
If only it was so simple. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Related

More From Thought Catalog