Today asked open-ended questions
but I didn’t answer, I was wearing
yellow sunglasses,
and I couldn’t see
the unalterable reality of the situation.
Today, truth was not analyzed, it was
deflected
to the other side of the net
and I spent minutes
precious minutes, wondering:
Which way am I going?
Do I have enough time?
How long will it take?
Until I felt like I was spinning in circles
stepping on poetry
like rotten apples,
decomposing at my feet.
Today, tall grass laughed
as I moved further into the
dark, unsettling tunnel;
not looking back.
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 11:40 PM UTC
Today asked open-ended questions
but I didn’t answer, I was wearing
yellow sunglasses,
and I couldn’t see
the unalterable reality of the situation.
Today, truth was not analyzed, it was
deflected
to the other side of the net
and I spent minutes
precious minutes, wondering:
Which way am I going?
Do I have enough time?
How long will it take?
Until I felt like I was spinning in circles
stepping on poetry
like rotten apples,
decomposing at my feet.
Today, tall grass laughed
as I moved further into the
dark, unsettling tunnel;
not looking back.
The dark night of the soul, perhaps it is. This is what yoda might say to me if I asked him what's going on. This tunnel is dark, but it is where I belong for now.
Request permission to use this poem