I Feel

I feel robotic, like a machine pressing the same motions again and again. I feel symbolic, like a logo for depression being questioned again and again.

I feel frustrated, like a kid who can't hit the baseball his dad is throwing. I feel orchestrated, like a sheet of music with crescendos that keep growing.

I feel alienated, like I speak a different language than everyone else I know. I feel antiquated, like a doll left to gather dust until a new kid picks me up and puts me on the throw.