Poetry

Senses

“I’m here. Lost, and never found.
Alive, but not living.”

Open your mind, take in all that is happening around you. The sights, sounds, scents, tastes, and feel on your skin. Then take it all away.

This is how I feel behind this wall, fortified to protect me from harm. Defend me from anyone and anything that could tear me down and leave me with a renewed sense of justification for those walls.

I’ve been reminded of how useful my prison is, and at times, I find cracks in its structure. Little things that pass through. Sometimes they’re spectacular, and sometimes, they take my breath away and spark my deepest, darkest fears.

The problem is I cannot decide if I should mortar over those cracks and seal them shut to protect me from the monsters that await me, or if I should let them be and relish in those beautiful moments that slip through.

I’m here. Lost, and never found. Alive, but not living. Numb, but overwhelmed with all my senses.

© Sarah Doughty
2015

It’s your eyes that keep me from so much darkness.

2 thoughts on “Senses”

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