Rigid

My bones feel rigid

like I’m living with rigor mortis,

depression’s equivalent

of arthritis.

There’s nothing the doctor can prescribe;

sunshine cannot be packaged

and nor can your smile

so I guess I’ll just wait

in my heaviness.

This opaque silence

where nothing can relieve

the nothingness I feel

whenever you leave.

 

 

© Kristiana Reed 2019

3 thoughts on “Rigid”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s