lexicon
Lexicon is about the need for a diagnosis, the idea that I have to have these titles added to my name; that I have to be able to explain myself when I am a nuisance. I feel that I should be boiled down into a short list of words, dehumanizing myself.
March 16, 2022
I am not me.
I am a beaded, strung up collection of my thoughts.
a web of words instead of conversations.
I am merely made of how everyone sees me. what am I, if not obsessive and ill?
who am i, if not a person at all.
aren’t i my diagnosis if that is all my mirror tells?
If I am once again nothing, then I am at ease.
If I am me, then I am compulsive.
I am a wallflower.
a sketched outline of a person with a list.
and a doctor’s signature.
a shell of a person, a place holder.
I have no age, no name, no face, no voice.
I exist for a statistic, I am an addition to the background.
a morbid, distraught, unaligned case.
a file.
If I am a person then I am clean.
If I am all but myself then I am in possession of reality.
but even the most pretentious fail, so yet again I am me.
unorthodox, dreadful, tired.
words under my name, like a description.
a dictionary of synonyms.
my name, like a glossary.
containing inadequate, insufficient, and mute.
my name, if not the same word as docile.
I am not myself, I am a literary depression.
legally bound to my detection of distress.
my word vomit hospitalizes me
and again, i am the public’s lexicon.
Zach Weisheit (he/him)
My name is Zach Weisheit, I’m a sophomore and I’ve always loved creative writing. Being in the journalism class gives me a chance to write about things I’m passionate about, but this allows me to share artistic and imaginative ideas and stories I’ve come up with that I don’t often get to share.