There's a certain sort of comfort
In staring at a map,
Drawing a line
From point A_______
_________________to point B
Nevermind the mountains
Or homes, or traffic, distractions
Plot a course as the crow flies
Turn a page, and I'm across the sea.
----------------------------------------------
There's a good amount of confidence
In writing out a plan
Making a list to get
From point A_______
_________________to point B
Nevermind the pitfalls
The waves, recessions,
Debt, depressions
And whatever heartbreak
You make in between.
----------------------------------------------
The course was oh-so clear
Once upon a time
The companion, the career
The home by the sea
I never expected chaos
(Though it's always followed me)
Terrified to be alone
I diligently read my lines,
Didn't want to cause a scene.
----------------------------------------------
The truth is below the surface
(As the iceberg, and the ship
at the bottom of the sea)
And my eyes have gotten weary
Staring at all these lines
I spent so much time
Afraid of making waves
And now I'm left to wonder
Where's the point?
About the Creator
Bex Jordan
She/They. Writer. Gardener. Cat-Lover. Nerd. Always looking up at the sky or down at the ground.
Profile photo by Román Anaya (https://www.roman-anaya.com/).
Instagram: @UmaSabirah
Keep reading
More stories from Bex Jordan and writers in Poets and other communities.
- Runner-Up in Full Moon Challenge
Toichophobia
If walls could talk…ah, but that’s not the proper question now, is it? It’s never been about whether walls can talk, but rather who is willing to listen. For the tales we have to tell are infinite, whispered from the drywall that only the most sensitive of souls ever perceive.
By Kelly Robertson4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
If other people’s Poems are like regular meds, yours are like the extended release version.
This resonates deeply. Great poem.