Freedom from what ails me,
a darkened thing that hovers near
when I am smile-smiling,
when I am face-facing,
when I am talk-talking
to the blank-eyed,
limping wisps
that try to pull me
off my path.

I have a direction.

I have a purpose.

I found it just now.

Just you wait.

Here I come.

No tags for this post.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.