I wake and wonder
what I can do
when all meaning is lost.
Coffee tastes bitter—
entropy reigns.
my joy replaced by cost.
I think too deeply,
then shut it down.
I can’t afford this spin.
Try to stay busy—
nothing has worked.
Seems I can’t settle in.
I’m caught in the past—
moments ago.
How did it turn so wrong?
The beauty I’d built—
gone in a flash.
It’s so hard to be strong.
Maybe I’ll sit here—
rest for a while.
What else can I do now?
My meaning is lost—
I’m untethered.
Happiness disallowed.
I wade through moments,
wish for the past
and try to hold out hope
that one day this will,
at last, make sense.
‘Til then, trying to cope.
I’m not giving up
or giving in.
But damn, this spinning sucks.
I’m looking ahead
to better days.
For now, breathing—in flux.
Author’s note:
This piece sits in the space between collapse and clarity—when meaning hasn’t returned yet, but giving up isn’t an option either. — Liora
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