thousands of invaders
inability to control
vulnerability leads to
sounds zap in from all directions
words float across from you mixing up my clear space; confusion
my insides shutter and leap from unexpected sensations
can’t you see the colours of the touch, or overlapping sounds darting in
the panic, alike to an animal realizing it’s another animal’s prey
squirrelling beneath this skin
fuzzy, scratchy, burning irritation
I reiterate personal space
letters and numbers, a faint gray and sometimes edges of black
float round again making up an abstract design: this equals another picture in my mind
below the sea’s surface
deep dark way down
I glance up and see a glimmer of white, waves of motion, ripples
I am lost below
I can hear the muffled words trying to reach me, confusion sets in.
Anger, and reaction. Disconnect. Told appear “cold”
below that ocean, warmth.
Unable to break free, and rise out to the top.
Moments of forceful words escape, biased. My one side
Not understanding yours.
Eloquently said, it is not. I do not believe words come in colours
Feelings, in pictures-unable to describe.
Forceful outside, top of the sea. I rest below.
Focused around the items of interest down here.
Hope for a new ability to connect, but often fail.