Lost Child

Down in a gulp, it sinks but in my stomach I can feel it afloat.
It gives no reaction to me dissolving its essence.
But my mind starts to grin and shriek.
After a few weeks the effects lessen and stir.
My mind no longer smiles but cries like a lost child,

 In that clothes store all those years ago.
The shams offering aid I had evaded, as the tall racks created a maze,
I crave comfort that I’m not getting, and when given, I do not want.
My eyes meet the floor, of green, blue, and red. 
It’s soft but cheap giving no direction or hope.
These paths they lead to anything, but how can I chose when I can’t see.
Where they lead too or anything.
Time seems to be exhausted giving me an agonizing fear.

In those last moments of my salty tears, my shoulder is greeted.
With the pleasant figure of a woman in green.
She leads me and calls out my name like she knew she should.
A familiar figure approaches and wipes my tears.
Acts as though they were for nothing and lifts me and I’m without fear.
From this height I see everything, every light and row and path.
The anxiety had conceded in addition to the pain which briefly past.