I am shaky and vulnerable
In the aftermath of
What surely must have been
an earthquake.
I see pieces of my world scattered
Across the floor of my bedroom.
Happy, smiling pictures
Hang sideways next to
my twinkling lights.
Clothes strewn on the ground,
A book half read here or there.
I watch the news,
Ears wide open,
Listening for the
devastating information they'll
Soon spew.
Nothing comes.
I am shaky and vulnerable
The ground is still unsteady
My knees wobble with every
Feather-light step I take.
Cracks appear.
All I once thought was
Mine,
Gone.
Surely, there was an earthquake.
YOU ARE READING
I Was Once a Sunflower
PoetryThis poem collection will be about who I used to be, searching for myself, and living when I didnt want to. They are sad, this description serves as my trigger warning.
