Searching
in circles
to find
where I am.

Clueless.

Helpless.

Eyes closed
afraid to see
afraid to be
I no longer know
who I used to be.

Searching
in circles
help me
find me.

Faded memories
of what
once was,
tangle in
the shadows
of what has

come to be,
leaving me
searching
in circles
in hopes
I find me.

Too tired to write,
too tired to think
yet sleep eludes me.

I close my eyes
to nothing more than unrest
I open them only long enough
to wish them closed.

Silent screams
echo into a night
that has only just begun.

Fingers of fear
grip tightly my chest,
I pray for peace
that passes understanding
and in faith
await for it to come.

It's nothing more
than an illusion,
a delusion,
this fear I feel and yet it's real.

I've much to do
when the new morn arrives.

Another day to fade away,
vapors of memory
to be forgotten
with the passage of time.

Whispers of hopes,
pieces of dreams,
scattered and shattered
along the way.
So much to be thankful for,
so much to fear,
so much,
too much -
the morning draws near.

Angst and weariness
forbidden to show,
strength
and wisdom
and hope
all shall see,
no one would know
the me within me.
I've yet to find the me
within me.

Sleep is damned
the day condemned,
I rise above it all,
or so I pretend.
I give
it all to the page
and the pen,
move on
and go on
keep up the pace.
Rest will come
at the end
of this endless day.

Pointless these words,
spewing forth
nothing and everything
I myself cannot understand . . .
they comfort me.

Perhaps my perfect peace
will come
the day I finnaly
remember
who I used to be.

Learn more about this author, Crystal Cook.
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