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I want to write something
But don’t know what
Don’t I feel anything?
Is nothing the matter?
Have I lost my talent?
Or just my mind?
‘Just’ my mind… ha…
As if that isn’t a big thing
Anymore
Furthermore
That’s all that’s left to lose
Everything else is gone
Squeezed like a cola can
And thrown away
Into a bigger can
Too much trash
Too little meaning
Now that I’ve trashed it all
There’s no meaning left at all
No mind
Except for one going mad
Slightly
Slowly
But surely
That’s all there is to write about
A mind that was
Am I out of it?
Out of my mind?
Or of everything?
I feel like I’m here
And yet only exist
Nothing more
Not alive
Even less dead
Just existing
Here
But not really now
Only the day after tomorrow
So what I gotta fill in
Are these lines
And tomorrow
And today
Now
Here
Where I am
After all
Here with me
With my words
That I didn’t find
Until now
Here
Where were they?
Where was I?
Where is my mind?
Was I with it?
Was it with me?
Is it with me?
Now?
Here?
Are you?
Are we?
Where — I don’t see you
I don’t see us
I only see me
Part of me
My fingers
Moving on the keyboard
Expressing what I thought
Was an empty mind
Empty thoughts
On an empty screen
Not anymore
Now it’s full
Of thoughts
But where are the emotions?
What is the matter?
Apart from dark
Intangible
Lost
Or never existing
At least not now
At least not here

©2012 Bjørn Clasen