Underneath the skin

To my apathetic partner,

I have a problem. This problem isn’t the worst of problems, but I have never heard of a good problem. Needless to say, this problem is constant, as if it was not then I would have no reason to write about it. I am unsure of its importance because important problems are pushed to the deepest chambers of my being, never to be mentioned again until the day of resolution. And yet, this irritation continues to chip at my temperance with the perseverance of a severe problem, and the minuteness of a fly. So what is my problem? I don´t know.  My problem cannot be seen by my eyes nor your eyes. It has no taste, except for that of discontinuing tranquility. It has no scent, but the aroma of boiling blood. I question whether you feel it or not, but I certainly do. Sometimes it comes in waves, other times in sudden barrages of fierce intensity.  Do you hear it? You would if you listened. Had you heard the chorus of over two millennia´s worth of genetics as they made their way down this long line, you may have discerned the warning trumpet. You may have escaped this problem as I wish I did.  I do believe this unknown antagonist is slowly making its name known. What else could put on a facade such as this? Disguising oneself as something minuscule and harmless in order to invade the camp of another. Clever girl. The trojan horse has invaded my essence, and rather than destroy me on the night of invasion, its contents have inhabited my life, feeding off of me. Parasites. The cold logic that I once used to abscond life´s trials is fading. The reason that once kept me afloat has now flung itself to the wind on its own volition. All rational thoughts flee my mind in fear of permanent extinction.  I have fallen prey to Zimbardo´s effect, the placebo effect, and the butterfly effect all at once. While acting and mingling amongst you, I have began to lose myself. There is no true reason, no potion, no poison, nothing that could affect my disposition. This all started with me taking one step. I made one mistake.  One dash of ink and my fate was sealed. Now I see clearly, what has disrupted the peace within me. Now I know what the problem is. Emotions. These are the parasites that have annexed my energy and taxed its reserves. These are the putrid puppeteers that now control my every action, bending me to their will, tearing at the sinews of my psyche with their strings. Do you see my problem now? Good. Run before it becomes yours. This is more than a highly contagious disease. These hidden creatures could very well lead to the fall of humanity. How frightening is it? Something Like the beasts portrayed. To know of such monstrosities within me. Within us all. And they aren’t deep down inside, waiting to be set free. No, these devils dwell just underneath the skin.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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