When will I be at my home-
(eostasis)?
Now I am not flailing,
But I am not swimming at pace.
The water I am swallowing
Is salt soured sips,
Not the murky milk gulps of my past.
I am within the mirage of perfect chaos,
And slipping forward,
Equilibrium will dribble into a puddle,
Underneath where I sit.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Published by sickybeat
I am a writer with an extremely active imagination. I love learning answers to questions and what makes everything and everyone tick. I am a "Unique case, medically" if nothing else. I am flawed in my extreme aversion to failure (even when "success" isn't good for me,) but have come a long way in ditching the perfectionist mindset. I like people whose default setting toward others is compassion, an open mind, and honesty
View more posts
Oh dear… beautiful if frightening poetic statement of your feelings at the moment.
LikeLiked by 1 person