Alien

My limbs are not mine
My eyes are mere marbles
My skin is a facade
My world is foreign to me.
People with names tell me
“It is just a phase, part of growing up”
Phase...growing up...processing words
Trying to comprehend

No definite answer available 

Too much noise in my head
My veins are cloistered
My brain (brains) feels heavy
My thoughts of passive rebellion
My dreams of blameless loss of faith
Are drawing me towards what they call existentialism
Do I qualify to exist? Did I spell it right?
Am I running in circles here?
Are circles endless?
Who am i writing about again?
My body contradicts my mind
My speech contradicts my language
My house contradicts my home
My laughter contradicts my tears
Crying for assistance is not an option
Believing in myself that I won’t influence myself
No more tears on the pillow
No more pleasure seeking escapades
Shutting the marbles, breathing through the facade
Walking with limbs displaying cloistered veins
I am waiting for my spaceship.

~ Leki Thungon