Are my eyes closed,
or is the atmosphere black?
After the hundredth collapse,
I’m back on my feet,
no crutch to lean to
or hand to hold.
The sensation of each heel strike,
each toe press the floor,
could delay to a hole,
for all I know.
Unsure and unsafe,
Undone and unreal,
I don’t see the strength
they see in me.
So, sometimes I wonder,
Should I stop moving forward?
Is this aimless?
Direction? -
I have none of that.
Still I keep going
in hope that eventually
my fingers will find
the light switch.