I walked in through an endless door I never knew I’d know
a calm climatic state of inner calamity,
walking ever so slow
more painful than a leisure stroll through a fire
but my body so cold and feet shuffle almost like through snow.
A self dramatic portrait of a moment
colors could never capture my emotional movement.
It never hit so hard
I never heard words leave so soon
did those words I even spoke?
How could I? When I was too red to breathe
only air I swallowed kept my voice shut as smoke does
fire-emotional-exact
water-falling-returned
spirit-uncertain-end.
when my teacher passed away I wrote this I've been uncertain to even post this but maybe it will help me cope