fulfillment becomes a foreign concept
nothing fills the void
the search for acceptance seems to near impossibility
the door won’t stop swinging
beings constantly walking in
walking out
words lack meaning
anything that used to be finds its own ending
a frigid cut in warm tender flesh
each word
each step
the heat escapes leaving me in livid shivers
all i am is open wounds and loose salt
rapidly decreasing as every moment passes
the time is seeping out from under me
can’t seem to grasp any solidarity
can’t seem to find anything genuine
this lump in my throat has become a constant reminder
on the verge of something
on the edge of my own cliff
the only difference now is the fear in my stomach has morphed into an intense hunger for flight
the fear of falling is no longer valid