Through The Eyes Of A Captive

When the glass is always half empty according to your mind

Amarache Sidali on unsplash

I press backspace over
the words typed
I don’t wait for the call
to ring twice

I look at the piles of
books doubling each
day, surfing aimlessly
across channels I don’t
even like

I call for tears but my
eyes are still dry
Each second, each day
passes like shreds of
papers caught up in the
howling wind outside

Unable to find their way
home, floating through
the unknown realm of
darkness, despair and
words left unsaid

I see colours too
Orange, pink, yellow
and blue
But always find myself
pulled towards shades
of flickering grey, no
matter how much I
dream to dance among
rainbows caught in the
rain

It’s tiring, frustrating
and hopelessness all
over again
When all I feel is
awfully depressed
when all I want is
to feel alive and at
my best