May 15, 2015


This third floor apartment
Ain’t gettin’ me any closer to the stars,
But I feel as though
My feet are so far off the ground
And I’m still scared
Of heights.
I’ve been swallowing tacks,
Biting my tongue
And holding out hope
That something good will prevail.
Where to turn, what to do –
Questions are out-pacing answers
These days
And I’m weary,
In search of bliss.