In attempts to become inert
I turn to the exhaustion
of every cell in my body.
Life is sand,
held loosely in the palm of a giant’s hand–
known as the Cosmos
What is a soul?
Stardust and water needing a vessel that is forever falling down
tripping up quick steps on a journey toward success.
With no movement
accepting an incomplete self comes easy,
no progress becomes the modus operandi
the thought “I’m happy” becomes a banner
on a slow, painful death march.
Instead of pursuing
life and adventure
I get caught up
in losing hope for a future.