THE CHAOS OF BELONGING
It begins within the contours of my mind,
Then transcends logic into the bosom of my helplessness.
I become a falling thing, swaying to the accompaniment of
Spasmic ululations
Lost between the jaws of the crowd and my cultured prejudice…
The questions arrive with an urgency that belittles my torments
Whilst I torment myselves with images of scalar freedom;
I have become something I cannot personify,
I have become a synonym for calculated disgust.
Sylvia. And after three-something years I cannot fully exist
Without thoughts of you occurring within the loneliness of the crowd.
The chaos of belonging begins with the loss
Of emotional assurance, that was found in the bottom of
Your careless smile,
That was formed in the wetness of your untutored desire,
That lingered in the memory of your exotic existence.
And I cannot help to weep at this secluded commonplace.
For goodness’ sake, I want to repair my thoughts to grandeur things.
I want to exist among the upper echelon of my soul where
Emotions dilate into nonexistence
I want to cessate all desires of belonging
I want to exist in a vacuum of my thoughts…
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Poetry: Emmanuel Idem
Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Pixabay (modified)