Reading the words,
they fly by me.
Hearing it all,
but not listening.
Watching without seeing.
There, but not really,
feeling disgusted,
dark and angry.
Failing to register
all around me as my mind
wanders, tossed
like a feeble vessel
on a violent
ocean in the midst
of a storm.
Give me clear skies
or sink me
already, the torture’s
a tease
that exhausts me.
If only I
believed in a god, goddess
or karma, I’d scream
to the sky, asking,
What have I done
to deserve
feeling like this, to have grown
so weak I can hardly bear
it, but I have only
an impersonal universe, circumstance,
my own freedom
and self-responsibility.
There are no true exits,
only illusory
seductions of finality,
I’m left alone
to find the will to make order,
to gain the wisdom
to finally fix me.
