Lost on my path— at least that’s how I feel
With this sudden shift of the heart
and the part of my conscience yelling out
that I mustn’t heed with guilt
but with faith
But what if my faith is askew?
What if I’m supposed to meet someone
that’ll change how I view the light
my intuition displays?
How can I stay… when my heart is
Three thousand miles away?
I must get back to her before she decays
Leaving me as ashes in disarray, swayed by
my decision to stay.
The refusal to listen for direction has me
feeling this way.
About the Creator
Raya
A poet and author born and raised in NYC, experimenting with expression of who I am and what lessons I’ve learned that should be shared with the world.
The Piggy Project
I’ve had so many names in this life I lose track of which ones were ever really mine and which ones I wore because someone needed me to. Some were handed to me before I had words to refuse them, before I knew what they meant, before I knew I could say no. Most weren’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t mean they didn’t leave marks. Marks that told me who I belong to, who I am by way of who claims me, recognizes me in the good and bad, who walks beside me.
By Fatal Serendipitya day ago in Confessions
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