Days drift by like shadows before I can catch a glimpse
I look at my hand and try to remember the feeling of your fingers between mine.
Icy air passes through my lungs
onerously
as if they are bored of breathing.
I watch the grey sky and wonder how long these clouds plan to stay.
I wander the city,
lost
not with the usual sense of novel excitement though.
In and out of bookshops like a subtle breeze,
through bustling coffee shops in hopes
that their percussion
will drown out those voices I do not want to hear.
Through lazy parks
where motion is on pause.
This green haze leads me to a blissful suffocation
where lack of ventilation means my mind too slows
even if just for a moment.
But then I must go on
I cannot stop
If I stop I will surely be consumed
I fear the night the most
when I must stay in the dark
stay in one place
where the speed of my body cannot match the speed of my mind.
I wander like a bumblebee that cannot see the way out
even though to others it is clear as the crystal glass
as a cloudless sky.
But how to make these clouds go away
I huff and I puff but with little result except my head hurts
the pain is dull and aching
it spins around and around
so I cannot seek solace in even one corner of my mind
