The Sheets.

Stuck between the sheets,

I forget to breathe sometimes,

held hostage by my pit of self-pity.

My fingers are numb, burdened with the fear of what’s to come.

My ears ring with the voice of those I love, in the darkness, they are my white doves.

I’m chained to my bed, left wondering about all those who left.

Caged within myself, I peer at the others out of their shell.

Scared to leave mine, I envy them for being fine.

Breaking out of my cage, I’m reborn with rage.

Falling was all too easy; healing is not all that breezy.

The sun shines through my translucent curtains,

as my burdens lessen,

and my shackles loosen.

Yellow; the colour of hope they say,

it’s another day, and I will not be led astray.

Categories: Literature, Poetry

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