Weight (poetry)

Heavy dank fog

Encasing

A scarred heart

Dark and ominous

Hands grasp out for something tangible

I see it

I reach for it

A voice tells me to.

But when my fingers curl

There is only the moisture

Of tears

To grasp

I’m left,

with a fist

My fingers touching nothing

But the palm of my hand

Encircling particles

Of someone else’s

Fantasies…

And my own…

Lost.

- Judi Reed, 2013