Reality

Reality

It’s so empty in the morning that I wonder who I am

Quiet, after all that noise and fierce determination

Nothing seems real and time isn’t moving

I open my mouth and smell the anger

Of leftover resentment and stagnant fear

It’s Sunday morning and nothing matters

Except I’m breathing and there’s no disgrace

No remedy for the sad discomfort

No cure for this unrelenting malady

I am pure and alive with no apology

I am what I am and though I feel weak

What I am has beauty and strength

I am eternal, I am immortal, I am infinite.

Jkf

2/13/11