Writing My Way Out - March 16 2024

 

Writing My Way Out

March 16 2024

One of those dull days

the dreariness seeps in

and you can’t seem to settle;

squirming in your skin

and vaguely dissatisfied.

Or maybe it’s not the weather.

Maybe, instead of not feeling yourself

that’s exactly what you feel;

not the person you want to be

nor how you present yourself

but who you really are.

Well past the age

one would imagine

you’d have figured it out;

all grown up,

a sensible adult.

The sky is a flat even grey.

It’s been hours,

but the light hasn’t changed

and time seems to weigh.

So all you feel

is aimlessness and anomie;

as if waiting for the weather to break

but the rain never comes.

Stuck in one place

and trying to write your way out.

Searching for words

like a rat in a maze;

feeling out the walls

as it scurries back and forth,

briefly pausing

on two back legs

to stretch up and sniff.

A poem

as depressing as that leaden sky

and about time I ended it.

Or at least brought it to a stop

if not a real finish.