PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I left my keys on the table

Hoping you wouldn't see what was on the chain

But you didn't even notice that they were there

And now all I feel is pain

It's the next few hours after

And I still can't move from the visiting pain

I'm nursing my cup of coffee

Wondering how I keep ending up here

again and again

And why the pain that visits

never stays away

I don't want to go to a galaxy

far up and away

I want to retreat to the deepest rabbit hole

And I'm not even sure if I want to request that there be a bottom for when I fall

But I want to know that I am floating

I want to feel the wind touch all of the parts of my hair that have previously gone untouched

I want the hole to be wide enough, yet small,

so my hands can scrape the sides

pinches of soil under my nails

You can find some there already

Would you like me to take your hand

open up my broken glass brain

let you step inside so you can finally see what it is that breaks me down

I am not a chooser of my fate

I am not the decision maker of my final thoughts

There are no final thoughts

Thoughts are rivers that turn to waterfalls that turn to streams that turn to ponds that turn into a trickle of moisture eventually sucked up by the same soil in my route to completion

And I don't know who I am

I cannot answer my reasoning or my fears

And I wonder why I'm aching

And I wonder why I'm scared

But I know it's for a reason

And for that alone, I must continue to care