Wandering

Critical, self-loathing.

She brushes away the tears that run like rain

before they can fall to the ground.

Destiny has brought her to this place again.

Or so she believes, cheating herself out of the responsibility,

choosing to blame it on fate’s nasty hand.

 

Dirty, unforgiving.

She’s unwilling to show her face at home;

hoping to miss the knowing glances.

Like bees they will swarm her

eager to hear the details of her slow steady breakdown.

 

Wandering, hopeless.

Numb from the ache of the realization

of what she has undoubtedly become.

Pretending the pain doesn’t overwhelm her.

Maybe someday she will feel whole again,

until then she will wander aimlessly through the harsh nights.

 

Reviews

[I Cast a Shadow]

I don't know why I keep recommending him lately but you should read Georges Perec's novel, A Man Asleep. It has the tone that I would write under the circumstances in which you are writing. I found it astonishingly inspiring and I feel you would too.