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You’re in freefall.

The old is gone.
The new—
not here.
Or is it?

At times, you feel free.
Other times,
you’re shitting the whole rainbow.

Where will you land.
Will you be okay.
Will you land.
Will you—

The old is gone.
The new not yet.
You reach—
it slips.

No way back.
No way forward.
No way through.
No way.

Just—

Falling.
Breathing.
Sky, air, nothing—

This.

 

Love,

 

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P.S. If my words resonate, my work might too.

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