Defining Moments


The grit of dirty metal pulls on my skin as I grasp for leverage.

The familiar taste of acidic mornings on my lips is so apropos to these paper eyelids, defending shadows of dreams as they slip through my fingertips.

My cheek pressed to the concrete, amidst deafening silence the heartbeat of this chosen asylum hums rhythmically.

There is no hiding here, for there is no being seen here.

I am consoled by the lack of comfort here.

I survive by the intensity of my senses here.

I am given strength by accepting that I am utterly alone here.

Words are lovingly caressed and strung together purposefully in the small quiet moments of clarity here.

I like the view from here, fingers laced through chainlink and cheek against concrete.

I am not defined by the complexities of a simple diagnosis here.

There is hope here.

13 thoughts on “Defining Moments

    • I’d like to believe it’s true as well though I’m not entirely convinced. I often ask to borrow hope from others, as my reserves are running on empty lately ๐Ÿ˜‰

      Liked by 1 person

    • I’m glad you decided to check it out โ˜บ๏ธ Taking part in NaBloPoMo last year really stretched my creative wings, I wrote some of my personal favorite pieces to date during that month!

      Liked by 1 person

Talk to me, I'm listening...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

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