Is it okay?

If it is okay to speak letters, than surely it is okay to feel words. The words are but distant thoughts to an internal battle of woe.

There is something missing from my soul.

I know there's something there, a lack of connection lacks a stare.

Alaska hailed from there, away from family so far.

What is the meaning of absence if you can't find it?

When nobody is in town, does it make up for my frowning smile?

The mountains of booze and man welcomed me, but not with warm arms.

Why is this place so dry, so dark?

The piece of nothing wraps around my body, my mind is flurried.

Is absence okay if I'm working day-to-day?

I feel closed in a sea of open, closing its doors on the weekends.

The inside has a window with a slight draft.

The winds stick to my skin.

The nerves are sensitive to the shots, decomposing to come apart.

Why must everything be a riddle if the answer's don't speak?

Dwindle as I go.

Dwindle as the morning sun chews the Z's of opportunities.

Is it even okay to be me?

Reviews

[Davidgeo]

Reminds me of dissociation... and working a very hard night shift.

[Bobisnotmyuncle]

That's a great and interesting observation!

[Franky]

Excellent poetic flow. I'm impressed. I read it twice wanted to experience it.

[Bobisnotmyuncle]

Thank you!