Detachment

If I could go back to any year, ANY, it would be 1980, the year before I existed,
The year Peacefully Erratic was nothing,.

This world is a battle for me, getting by on a daily basis,
Trying to understand were I fit in, learning through mistakes,
Learning through physical and mental pain, it’s a struggle,
Yet I force myself through, yet sometimes my mind, it takes me some were else,
Some kind of protection maybe, or is it a form of coping?
I don’t know, nor do I understand, yet another moment that confuses me.

Tuning out the world, I am in a place with you, yet I am not here,
I am not present, my eye’s are looking, yet see nothing,
My mind has taken me to a world away from here,
Where it goes, only my mind knows, as it buries itself deep,
Away from the present world, away from the moment,
Maybe it takes me back to 1980, Maybe it takes me to a day I didn’t exist.
I don’t know, all I know is, when this happens, my body is here,
Whilst my mind is in a place were it feels it finally belongs,
Even for a brief moment,
Detaching itself from time, nothing matters,
Just that moment of nothing, pure nothing.

Sometimes, my mind and emotion detach, they leave me, I feel numb,
This is more so now, just going through the moments,
No longer caring, no longer fearing, no longer wishing or hoping,
Detaching from those around me, refusing to acknowledge all around me,
In the hope of making sense of my existence, Yet it’s all the same,
Nothing changes, Nothing moves,
I look down and still see my body, I still see those around me,
Taking control, demanding, wanting, needing,
I am still me, pointless, numb, existing.

People can say what they wish about me,
They can judge me, assume me,
but do they understand, how it feels,
To feel as though you no longer belong to this world,
No longer fitting in, emotions mean nothing,
Time means nothing, Just numb to everything,
Everything carrying on around you, whilst you walk through mud,
yet able to throw on a smile and pretend all is normal

I hate this life, I hate what it brings me,
I hate feeling so detached from existence,
Yet when it’s all you know, Who care’s?
I don’t, nor do I wish too!