Living in the same house with someone has made me feel like
everything I do is quirky, like I have a failure to function properly
as a human.
I feel like a freak,
an idiot.
Like everything I think of has been thought of,
and doesn't matter much, anyway.
This isn't how we're supposed to feel.
Like you're a holding cell for greater things.
Like every day in your presence is a bit closer to
what hell feels like.
My own mind has become like a useless TV tchotchke.
Can anyone appreciate my musings?
Will I be a rarity my whole life?
Can I find someone who will muse with me?
Are my realizations postmature?
Has the whole world already figured out that
power does not feel so good when reached in increments,
and power thrust upon someone will overwhelm?
Has everyone but me known that the only ones who truly
feel the force of power are those without it?
Am I blind?
Am I
at all
tolerable?
Just leave my house.
I want my mind back.
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