Unseen
By Ashley O’Hare
Holding onto walls
trying not to fall.
I cannot see
two feet in front of me.
My tears blur my vision,
preventing me from escaping this prison.
My heart is racing.
I should stop pacing.
I should lie down, turn off the light,
but my gut refuses to lose a fight.
Clasping my hand to my wrist
I give my fingers a twist
until I feel the drumming pulse
reminding me that I have a soul.
It’s still trapped inside
with the part of me that died
that cold summer night
in the middle of July.
But I can’t see it.
I can’t see me.
I can’t see.
ashleyohare 