Miss speaking,
words unformed,
floating in the air.
************
A mind untangled,
chaotic and whole,
a dance of thought.
************
Miss sharing,
ideas that burst
like flames,
untouched by silence.
************
But
did it happen?
Or was it all
a mirage?
************
A recluse I was,
Maybe I've forgotten
the language of connection.
Was it ever real?
************
Now,
I cannot find the words,
Voice, a closed door,
a silent echo.
************
Those who would listen,
are held at arm's length,
the one who should
remains in a lost world,
unaware of the dissolution.
************
Programmed
to hold back,
the flood of thought
a memory now.
************
And I wonder
is this what I miss?
Or did it ever exist?
************
About the Creator
Nash Georges
An old soul who embraces the power of words and needs an outlet to have a voice. Mother of three. I am delighted to be part of this platform and hope I create a positive impact on those who dare enter my mind. Thank you for reading.
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