Gone

Reaching for you

My hand is frostbitten

I pull back in excruciating pain

I reluctantly open my book and there is nothing written

When I was thrust into this journey I had no idea what it would entail

I move like salt to a snail

I need a hero; can't you be there?

I hear your hollow whispers of regret

Yet you don't show your face

Harshness of the world at my back

Can't see my way through the thick of it

I'm not fit enough to start this race

Blinders blinders; lost self in the grinder

What comes out is a jumbled, humbled, messy, surprise

The cinders enter my eyes; I'm so very tired

Eloping to a place of uncertainty with my inner self

I constructed this box with only enough room for me and no one else

So don't come knocking unless you seek to change the game

I'm used to solitary wait in the pouring rain

Purple ribbons and candy cane promises

I've tasted them all before

They sour in my mouth as I black out on my soul's floor.....