The familiarity of the unfamiliar
passes in my mind like a muffled sound
It puts me to sleep so I don’t
let it overwhelm me with pain
I try to understand, analyse, hear, see it
but its foreign language evades me
The confusion brews about
a pressure cooker feeling
I try to ignore, deflect, hide, blind it
But it rears its head
So I attempt to understand it again
Understanding means realising
Realising means being conscious
But confirming the existence of unfamiliar
nudges at my deepest hidden fears
The safe haven of ignorance is out of sight
Where is the bliss they promised?
Where is the feeling of contentment?
Where are the sensations familiar?
Why do I always find myself
in the grips of the unfamiliar