Frayed

No longer can direction be found,
for my soul is unwound.
Each and every fiber headed a different way,
Falling further apart by the day.
Courses change from one azimuth to another,
The harder I try, the further they get from each other.
Semblances of order are seen,
but not the direction I mean.

My rope is all but gone,
my hope can no longer go on.
I'm so weak now from the pain,
yet my flesh remains the same.

Reviews

[WaterColorPanda]

i think there is something to be said for just how big we are inside, as compared to outside. If something changes inside it can be the biggest thing we've ever experienced, and yet outside we look like the same old person. so maybe we do big things to compensate, for some reason we feel the need to have out insides match our outside.