Cold hands and bare feet,
walking down the lip.
Mouth shut, but eyes wide open,
No word should be spoken.
Nose smells the weight of despair,
ears listening, fully aware.
Body drags like a beast,
feeling human, at least.
Head wrangling, crawling,
arms down, endlessly falling.
The void is there in that despair,
trying not to roll, caught in the air.
About the Creator
Ina Zeneli
In love with writing books for kids, young adults, poetry, and novels.
Find my books here:
https://a.co/d/3kb8btt
https://www.amazon.com/author/inazeneli
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Comments (3)
That last line—“trying not to roll, caught in the air”—felt like floating mid-collapse. You nailed the beast within.✨
Oh, wow, so good <3
I love this poem ♦️♦️♦️
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