I am pulled in each way, and
I've lost myself. I don't know
where I am anymore, and I
don't know where one side
ends and the other begins.
Solitude in making myself
sick, tired, depressed, because
no one can tell me where
my faith went.
Laying on my back, I trace
invisible and imaginary
lines. I fell so out of love
that I fell out of myself.
The whole world now feels
like I'm tapping on a window
but no matter how loudly I
shout, or how softly I whisper,
I still can't reach the old me.
YOU ARE READING
CLOUDS FOR MY EYES
PoetryThis prose-poetry chapbook explores themes of clouded judgments, devotion and deconstruction, and cotton fields where a belief in purpose and a belief in freedom no longer align. New poems released every Thursday at 9PM MST/11PM EST.
