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Lost.
March 19, 2017
The mist clouds my vision
A foggy thin layer devours my happiness
What am I without my love?
What am I without my sense of being?
Lost.
In the forsaken fog
Searching for someone who holds a part of me
A cup half full
Full of the desirable being I long to see
But with only half
Only half there will be
In the absence of my love
I am merely an image
That is yet to come alive
Waiting like a parasite
On her energy I thrive
© Kristin W., Clarington, PA
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