Eyes

My head spins.

There is no solid ground.

When I think there is,

I keep sinking down.

I want to scream, shout!

But when I open my mouth,

Nothing comes out.

Just a breathy exhale.

Air of no substance.

When I look around,

I see my fears reflected.

A future that seemed farfetched,

Now an apocalyptic reality.

I want to cry.

I want to weep.

But the eyes refuse to seep.

So we must look on through,

Since they refuse to see.