You’ve grown tired
Of seeing people’s backs,
Slowly getting small
As they walk away from you.
You see yourself
No longer running,
Staying still
Until the next one comes
And until they leave.
You see yourself
In the middle of nowhere,
Enduring the biting cold,
Enveloped in darkness.
But, still,
You see yourself.
Realize that there is light,
As long as you don’t
lose yourself. Stay still
until one comes
and hold your hand
and not let go.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC
You’ve grown tired
Of seeing people’s backs,
Slowly getting small
As they walk away from you.
You see yourself
No longer running,
Staying still
Until the next one comes
And until they leave.
You see yourself
In the middle of nowhere,
Enduring the biting cold,
Enveloped in darkness.
But, still,
You see yourself.
Realize that there is light,
As long as you don’t
lose yourself. Stay still
until one comes
and hold your hand
and not let go.