open surgery.
it is night time
and I feel languished
beaten
but there has to be something that I am missing
something that I can’t even begin to place my finger on.
is it the city lights?
blurred out circles that continue to amaze me
their simple beauty that makes me feel alive again?
possibly.
or the harsh wind
cold but not too cold
sort of warm, in a way
how it makes me feel like I am back home again
perhaps.
or where I am standing?
on top of a tall building
not hearing a peep of the noisy city below me
just me
or maybe it could be my head
which is open to the world
literally.
the top half is down on the ground, awaiting recognition
while I stand here, above everybody
with the other half
and I feel oh so senseless.
YOU ARE READING
untitled.
PoetryStars and painted candlelights are the only things that bother to keep me sane, these days. But it's okay. I know you're trying. (My first posted poetry collection)
