How do I know
I'm telling the truth
When I cry out?
How do I know
I haven't fabricated
All of it
To soothe my broken soul?
How do I know
That I really am
Considering all the options
And not just calling myself
Important?
How do I know
That I'm not fooling myself
And that I'm really here?
How do I know
The habits and thoughts
I've claimed to harbor on
Are really as things are?
How do I know
It isn't my fault?
That I couldn't
Have done better?
How do I know
That the path I've chosen
Is the right path
When so m,any
Tell me it's wrong?
About the Creator
Rachel Prett
I'm a poet and a fiction writer. I can write quite decent essays, but I'd rather tell stories of the heart and speak with my whole soul.
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Do You See Me Now?
The light peeking through the lazily closed curtains shines onto his drowsy, heavy eyes acting as a rude alarm to awaken him from his drunken slumber. Sully turns to his side and is met with long blonde hair facing away from him. He can’t see her face so isn’t sure if she’s a new woman or one he’s been here before with. Almost designed by fate, the aggressive vibration of his phone beckons him.
By Shauna Mullena day ago in Fiction
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