Cemented

I can cry oceans when i’m alone and turn my bed into drowning land.

I am surrounded by air though my palms rest hollow and hunched as

dying branches do.

i have lost the desire to create. This engine doesn’t run as smoothly as

it did before.

My life is not fleet of foot, and I am here, now, cemented in the storm.


Recent Posts

© 2017 by Katrina Rojas