What Is This Feeling

By Malakhi Tanner, 17, Michigan

Maybe it’s Monachopsis,

The feeling of being out of place.

Or Athazagoraphobia,

The fear of being left or abandoned.

Or maybe Alexithymia,

Difficulty with emotional expression.

Or it could be Psychomachy,

A conflict between one’s soul and body.

Any of these things could fit,

Fit the feeling I seek like a shoe.

But it would trap it in a cage,

Put it into the order of humans.

It may bring me desired comfort,

Through the craving of control.

But it would make desiccation set in,

Decaying the beauty of my sadness.

Maybe it’s Viridity I seek,

The state of being naively innocent.

Or is it Metanoia,

The journey of changing oneself?

Or do I have a Paracosm,

An ignorant dream world of a child?

Or just simple Tranquility,

The state of being content in grace?

But I am nothing but a scarred man,

Infected by the dark and the gray.

An everyday Eccedentesiast,

A hider of pent up pain and sorrow.

I am a simple man as well,

I find satisfaction in the simple things.

I desire to listen to the Brontide,

To listen to the Lucidity of the rain.

I am a simple man, with a beautiful feeling.

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I have friends and family that suffer from a sadness I can see flow behind their eyes, it is the same sadness that drowns me constantly. I wanted to, ironically, put it into words.

Photo by Wenniel Lun