Molting

Molting

Molting

I keep coming back to this well

And every time I find it dry

But I keep coming back

And I keep coming back

 

Empty

Empty 

Emptiness 

 

There seems to be no word association

With Emptiness

 

Because when there is nothing there

There is nothing to associate with

Just like everyone else’s search for eternal bliss

Mine seems to be sorting through laundry

Making car payments

Daily grinds

These thoughts that come forward to my mind

Are gut wrenching

But so Blase’

I think I’ll go and find a tray

Filled with bright hors’d oeuvres 

A sporty car to drive the curves

To navigate the way to nowhere

 

I sit here in the smoke and stare

Into this long and deep abyss

 

It is the clouds and skies I miss

 

They do make such a difference

I grow tired of this poetic inference 

That leads me to this same empty well

I’m ready to let go of this shell

Let my soft insides be revealed

 

I could be loved

 

I could be peeled

 

But at least I would be me

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Another thought-provoking eloquent piece, how do we really find ourselves? Is there an emptiness in everyone? Mindless work and mindless spending, I have found that both are wonderful avoidance strategies. If I’m honest, it’s not as if I’ve stopped. Fabulous photograph, the sky is amazing.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks so much. I think this piece reflects a little of the regret I have in not simply being myself until I got to be older. Now I’ve found it’s quite the free place to be, and I do think the sky in this photo reflects that sense exactly. 🙂

    Like

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