The floor has dropped
and we sit
falling,
waiting patiently to crash,
stuck in the blurred line
between
okay
and tragedy-
who were we
before we fell?
Did we appreciate
this life
or did the late nights
really mask
the sunrises?
I am not a tragic ending or a storm below the stirring Earth, I am not your empty vessel nor am I a glass of dirt. I have never been full...
Belonging is difficult and sometimes a battle on a field littered with bones. Those of us who never got a say in this destiny lay...
Fragments of myself fell off until I had lost them all, I had lost the soul until I was nothing but a performing shell- I had forgotten...
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