deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Wind

As the door to my cell opens
I dont feel the excitement
There's no anticipation of freedom  
 
For so long I have dreamed of this day
Its always been this sort of unachievable goal
The reason to keep pressing forward  
 
Now its here  
 
I step through the threshold and...
Nothing  
 
Just nothing  
 
Theres this whole new world laid out before me
I dont know what to do
Where to go
Who I am  
 
All I have wanted was to leave that cell
Never really thinking about what's next
What is on the other side  
 
As if my release would be some magical transition into hopes and dreams
Yet here I stand with this vastness laid out before me  
 
There's so much emptiness  
 
For all its negative effects, the darkness felt safe
It was reliable
It was me  
 
Now I am nobody  
 
I feel out of place
Like a tourist
Marveling at all the sights and sounds  
 
The sun shining
The birds chirping
The wind on my skin
The way the leaves blow in the breeze  
 
I find myself getting caught up in these little things
These meaningless things
They don't matter  
 
Its all just distraction
Not worthy of attention
Not worthy of focus
Mundane  
 
I dont know how to stop and smell the roses
I dont want to learn
It feels fake
Surface level nonsense  
 
But I like the way the wind feels against my skin  
 
And I hate that  
 
I hate that for years I have let the world crumble around me
That there is so much work to be done
So much that needs to be repaired  
 
While I sit and think about the wind
The crispness
The way it brushes against my skin ever so softly
How it makes me feel connected to this planet
Connected to the animals and people
This invisible force that manipulates the world around me in visible ways
 
Im lost, empty and without an identity
 
While I sit here thinking about the fucking wind
Written by Just-Rob
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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