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Drifting

April 21, 2026

I felt my world slipping through my fingers. I saw my fingers unclench, Relinquishing myself, my person. I let go of the edge, losing my grip on reality. I fell through reality, witnessing. Not experiencing, not living. Drifting through space. I saw the world fly through my eyes. I saw months and months fade away. And yet, nothing substantial. Drifting through time. Always drifting. It's not a good feeling. But it protects me from worse.

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Personal experience of dissociation with philosophical undertones about protection.

Moderate density; repeated metaphors of drifting and loss across 14 lines.

Negative emotional content tempered by final acceptance of protective dissociation.

Controlled, introspective voice; passive verbs dominate; minimal explosive intensity.

14 lines falls in 16-30 range boundary; treated as mid-length poem.

Strong metaphor of drifting, slipping fingers; personification of world and reality.

Pure lyric internal consciousness; first-person introspection without narrative or dramatic shift.

Drifting

Nightshade-444

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