Tabula Rasa

He hasn’t lost his ability to feel,

but the external stimulus of

the excitement or the disappointment

are just scenes of the movie he watches.

Even when tears come out,

it’s like these can’t wet

his cheeks.

When he smiles and laughs,

he can sense the authentic source

and cause inside,

and that’s fulfilling by itself.

He can detect his mind’s confusion

and his chest’s upheaval when happening,

but these don’t act on his behalf;

these can do whatever “they” want.

He is aware and that’s all.

His non-extreme reactions seem

sad and lifeless to some “others”;

they accuse him of disconnection.

He doesn’t accuse them of anything;

He just doubts the unforgiven…

He feels alive and connected.

It looks like he experiences

blankness. He does and he doesn’t.

It’s like tabula rasa, which isn’t exactly blank.

Or, like the book of destiny;

its content has been engraved

on the phenomenally blank pages,

and our action will determine

the way and the rhythm

in which it’ll be fulfilled.

His chest is like a dark, quiet room

full of white smoke.

Could I say it’s empty?

I think he’s just overwhelmed by

something that can’t be imprisoned

in hands or minds, and it doesn’t need

to be named.

***

Anthi Psomiadou — CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 International : Credit must be given to the creator/ Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted/ No derivatives