Filleted.

Americana Injustica

I am unsure
I am unclear
I tread like a footless ghost through here
I am opened
I am emptied
Filleted heart made of hollow filigree
I am emboldened
I am infused
With a ferocity that I’ll sooner die before I lose
I am embittered
I am resigned
To this deepening slumber of heart and mind
I am disgusted
I am relieved
By a brain-foggy blanket of false security
I am accepting
I have denied
The long line of emotions still collecting inside
I am in mourning
buried inside myself
I don’t know how to reach out to anyone else
I am the question
The answer is gone
I am the shadow in the shine of the sun

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One thought on “Filleted.

  1. Simon says:

    I can reach out… I’m no sun I can’t disperse the shadow. Sorry about that. ☺

    Liked by 1 person

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