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Sleepwalking

A lack of presence in my life feels like I'm sleepwalking through time

By Libby CannonPublished 10 months ago 1 min read
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Some days I can tell I'm asleep

I move through my mornings like I'm walking through a dream

I enter my afternoons where there is no reality

Other than the fake existence of a pieced-together story

Where do I go when I can't see what's in front of me

How do I avoid the muted colors that sit and surround me

How do I feel what's hiding in my soul?

When I'm hiding from reality and my soul and spirit knows

That there's something in me missing

The presence has hidden away

The moments of sadness and laughter and love aren't moments I can embrace

How do I wake up from this other world?

How can I see beyond the oyster

And into the radiant beauty of the pearl?

How do I escape this nightmare of moving time

And step into the presence that I know should be mine

Give me every opportunity, send me every sign

Don't let me sleepwalk for the rest of my life

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Libby Cannon

I spend a lot of time writing poetry and short essays on freedom, mental health, societal structures, feminism, and philosophy. Writing is how I process my thoughts and I hope what I share resonates with you :)

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