Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2020
This is my sanctuary,
A blank page where I exist.
Where the waves can crash me down
Just to feel the water pound, perfect.
I've been thirsting but, don't drink.
Starving without something meaningful to sink
My teeth into and grip hold.
I'm an old soul stuck in this body I captured,
A sold soul stuck waiting for my rapture.
Don't look at me here, look at you.

If these walls are holding ghosts
At what point do I flow into them too?
At what point do they host my reflection
And in what direction am I wired to move?
Could I be the old grooves in the wood
Waiting for some simple symphony of motion,
The water dripping from the leaky faucet
Still dreaming of being an ocean?

Could I just be these simple bones?
Being pulled by an imaginary fate I trust
Until that reckoning to unknown,
From ash to ash, dust to dust.
This is my sanctuary,
A blank body where I exist.
Dream Fisher
Written by
Dream Fisher  26/M/Arizona
(26/M/Arizona)   
257
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems