Poetry: I Must Not Walk On

A woman is walking through a field. She has her hand on her hair and the sun is casting a golden hue on the tall grass

In a vast field,
shielded by the haze of smoke,
I pat my hair,
Trying to visualise how it looks
Yes, it’s straight and neat,
And I walk on.
I smile, imagining a friend in front
Yes, I am not yet tired,
And I walk on.
I look up,
blinking at the sky I cannot see
Yes, it’s too far away
And I walk on.
I lift a foot and place it down,
expecting the ground I cannot feel
Yes, it’s not there,
And I walk on.
I sense my center shifting,
My gut jerking,
Down, into a bottomless well
I am going

Nothing to hold onto
Nothing to break the fall
In darkness I keep going
Chanting, “nothing’s wrong, keep believing”
I want to stop
I must.
So please, catch me
Before I turn to dust.
Say, it’s ok. You can rest.
It’s ok. Don’t try. It’s enough.
Say It’s ok. I got this.
It’s ok. Who you are.
Please say it’s ok. Who you are.

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3 Responses

  1. So hauntingly profound. Brilliant poem. Thank you for being who you are. I needed your poem today.💐

  2. I agree with you. It’s OK. It’s OK.
    Gotta copy and share, –– your words got me going.
    “Expecting the Ground (which) I cannot feel.”
    T.G.I.F. Thanks again 🙂

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