Sil Hattaavah

a wilting flower in the middle of a field
surrounded by a vast, colourful rainbow of pedals
is me, dehydrated, withering away, cold

i’m making the pretty field so bland
i need to be plucked with my deathly appearance
i depreciate the value of this land

i’m falling and falling and nobody can see
suffocating in a thick, negative bliss
trying to remember why i am like this

but as time progresses i just fall deeper
and i continue to lose touch with the hunger
the desire, the drive to do better

the empty stormis rapidly closing in
the wind is ripping at my skin
losing this battle of torment within

the shadows overlapping each other
the dirt is swirling all over
i’m just a mess, does it even matter?

no, as of late i do not believe so
my heart is beating abnormally slow
the time is nearing for me to go

i am almost breathless under all this weight
my body being crushed the longer i stay
i feel so hopeless even as i pray

everything is lost and i am stuck
no fingers are digging to pull me up
i am nearly buried in this tiny cup

“invisible”  originally written December 16, 2011
Copyright © 2011 Sil Hattaavah. All Rights Reserved.