And I am drowning.
It is believed that you must hit the sharp edges of the rocks, first. That you must endure darkness and let it seep into your soul before you can rise. It is believed that this fuel of empty loneliness will one day be the stepping stones toward the stars. But I cannot feel the light of the dying orbs that scatter throughout my skies.I bleed profusely as I fall and fall again. And I cannot reach the top. I am drowning and no one hears my voice as water fills my lungs. And I am drowning in the despair of poisoned air that I breath in silently as I pick my shadow up from the floor and sew her to my toes for if I have my shadow then I am never truly alone. It is believed that our internal light burns like a beacon calling into the twilight hours, mine despairingly wanders through the darkness, tear stained cheeks, there is no glue that can fix what is broken, splintered particles littered through the time of existence. And I am drowning and shadow is a miss. And I am drowning, putrid water filling my lungs holding me down. And I am drowning.
Karen Hayward ©2016