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.