It was like walking on tightrope
Firmly grasping for straws
Desperately holding on to unseen hopes
As if the only remedy was the silence of death.
It was as soft and as hard as ice
It was like hell with hail as rain
The depths of my mind scrambling for truth
but the insides of my mouth spewing lies.
It was like treading water
An impossible journey, altogether.
The days I have lived are all but this,
they were, are, hopefully won’t be for long…
MUNDANE AS EVER.
Wanderlust 