My Forlorn Place
bereft and afloat I travel aimlessly
without my own thoughts
my mind is mush
no accident I have landed here
I always come back to this forlorn place
have you taken your pills?
What good are they without a mind
how can they be digested
when imagination is prancing over the hill to the south?
I want the voices to shush
let me enjoy the squalor
let me revel in my dire strait personae
the voice reappears
I slam my feelings down hard
but not soon enough
Irritated that I always come back to this place.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
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