I am dead

It’s never the same.

Day in day out.

The way light hits my eyes.

The way I see and don’t see.

How words hit my ears.

It’s as if it were all some surreal watercolor put before me,
one I can not understand. 

Now.

I am not the same.

I try.

Lord knows I try.

But I am not me.

Now.

After the marble.

I am one of the other ones.

The damaged.

The broken.

The infirmed.

Lost.

Trying to find my way out

of what is my brain.

Now.

Some days I want to just start screaming,

“Let me out.

Let me out.”

But no one comes.

Other days,

I limp along in my new reality

trying to forget

just who it is I am supposed to be.

Who I was.

I see but do not see.

I hear but do not hear.

I am dead.
But still I walk.