My soul's worth can't be more than a feather, yet I still feel Him holding me.
I push away, slip into darkness, but a rope of grace still connects me.
These demons scream, they deafen me, and I feel taken by the undertow,
I scratch and claw to get away, still through all of this I know,
He is the light I must eventually turn to, despite my guilt and fear.
And when the demons deafen me, He causes me again to hear.
I'd like to end this nightmare now, more than anything, I'm sure.
The thing that keeps me going is fictional stories and their allure.
At the same time, the most painful part is the fact I'll never see their faces.
I can't be taken to raxicoricofallapitorius, or 221b, or any of my hideaway places.
I'm stuck here, praying emptily to my God, knowing only my future is bright.
So if you ask while I mutter to myself, no, I am not alright.
YOU ARE READING
The View From Above
PoetryThis is a book full of feelings. maybe they aren't my feelings, maybe sometimes they are. If you read it, try to relate to the feelings being portrayed. We'll see what happens.
