blue light

[mental quest]

the tv is too loud
but it feels better than silence,
so i let it talk to me.
some sitcom laugh track
says things are fine.
i nod.
they’re not.
i’m wrapped in a blanket
like it’s a defense mechanism.
like soft fabric
can hold back sharp thoughts.
and then—
the window flickers.
blue light.
quiet, unnatural.
not moon.
not screen.
something else.
it hums, but not out loud.
just inside me.
like it knows exactly
where i keep my tired.
i don’t move.
because part of me
thinks if i get up,
it’ll come in.
or maybe
it already has.
the blue light isn’t a color.
it’s a feeling.
like forgetting what happiness tasted like.
like being full of noise
and still
so
empty.
it doesn’t knock.
it never does.
it just stands there
waiting,
sucking the warmth from the room.
from me.
i blink slower now.
the tv laughs again.
some character makes a joke
about therapy.
the blue light flickers.
it laughs too, i think.
but without sound.
i pull the blanket tighter,
like maybe
i still believe in protection.
and in the pale static glow
of the late-night screen,
i let myself wonder
what it would feel like
to wake up
and not
feel
drained.

[tight prawn]

You are not alone. I feel this way every waking day of my life.

[mental quest]

@oak bone @fluid eagle @thick apex

[oak bone]

That was an awesome poem overall, but the ending especially 🤌🏽🤌🏽 just WOW.

[mental quest]

thank you for the feedback very much!!!

[fluid eagle]

Most of your works are really relatable.... Nah all of them (so far)