I had hope of things getting better, of our prison cells being opened eventually. Of walking out into the sunlight, with the knowledge that today is the day school begins, and my life returns to normal. While only a week has passed, reality is hitting, and I'm sinking to the bottom of a black abyss. Falling rocks keep me pinned down in the dark, leaving me unable to break free from the sadness. The bars on the windows used to serve as protection, but now, all they do is serve as a reminder that we have failed ourselves as a society. I used to think manifestation would manifest itself in the form of progress, showing me that I can shape my own future. The optimism has truly rendered me color blind, when you only see pink you ignore the gray that lies between the lines. I thought that some day I would return to my safe haven, release all of this pent up emotion and bathe in sweet relief that I made it through. I'm tired of living in a historical event, tired of being a walking headline. I'm afraid that this is the government's way of total control, keeping us trapped in our personal hell, watching their puppets catch fire only to laugh at their ashes. I used to have hope of reuniting with my second home, but it seems to me that I'm better off homeless, erased from the world because I only contribute to the problem. With my hopes of parole erased, I sit here, trying to draw a key to fit the keyhole, forgetting that paper is not 3-D.
*just a stream of consciousness I wrote at the beginning of quarantine. It still is how I feel months later. Yay for staying stagnant, I guess*
YOU ARE READING
Fantasy Feelings
PoetryHello my lovelies, this is yet another poetry book. This one has more variety to it. Some about anxiety, loss, depression, even depersonalization. But don't worry, positivity shall be spread amongst the book as well. Feel free to comment your though...
