Some things that can't be taken away

 

In the moment

Where comfort 

Is the 

shoes 

I'm walking in

I am staring at myself walking

Down a lane

I am thinking

Am I walking right

People who pass me by 

Are they seeing me smile

Was I laughing right

I am outside myself

As I answer

Questions

Small

Words 

That seem to occupy most of 

My days

One by one 

They all start to sound the same

And the edges

Where I used to find

Distance

A terror

Becomes a soft

Assurance

That I can take myself away

Very far from this place.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

In Each Light

Andalusia

In This Unopened Letter, I