My heart, it has been broken apart.
As tears flow freely they violently surge. Rushing forth, forcing a river through tiny shattered shards.
Scattering salvageable remnants of my soul farther and farther from reach.
As I grope about, on bent knees, it is as if I finally see.
Tears pool like lenses, the more I let go, the more clear life becomes.
Yet every time I blink the world fades back to blurry anonymity.
I strain to see before my eyes tire again and tears shed to the ground.
All I get are frantic fish-eye glances at a clinically uncaring world staring back.
K. B. Silver
I have always been fascinated by the fact that water pooling on the eyeball can make my vision become clear, yet when I have been fitted for contacts over and over again, they did absolutely nothing. Not any of them. It was like I was, well staring straight through flowing water.
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.