WHERE AM I ?
Buried under layers of anxiety I exist
A deluge of circumstances
or divine will,
flooded over me.
Layers upon layers
like sedimentary beach sand
now entomb me.
As children on the beach
therapists gleefully burrow in,
Digging holes and building castles.
Waves, like the day's events,
fill the holes
but they are unhindered.
More to dig.
Smooth winds swirl over me.
Removing these layers?
Take two at night and one in the morning.
These winds are deceptive.
They shift the sand,
Not remove it.
How will I free myself
if I do not know,
where I am.
on this endless beach.
Where first do I look?
YOU ARE READING
Where am I
PoetryA poem on the struggle of trying to regain myself and how daunting it can seem
