Thorns

Thorns

The ocean that once set me free is barricaded with thorns.
The waterfall that made me believe,
Gone with everything else.
How do I fight my demons if I don't know if they're in disguise?
Are the angels that surround me holding a knife behind their back?
When I pray do their eyes stay open watching me?

The window that once shun a light is closed with secrecy.
The air that was once full, empty like the glass that my dry hands loosely grip.

I see the wrinkles in my face that wrap my anxiety.

The dark circles that support my eye.

The drought lines around my mouth that stop me from speaking.

I have lost all hope.