Whole

Am I whole?

If I dug up all that I have,

Would it pay for experience?

I crave the finality of exhaled breaths.

It excites me to know hope. And yet, I'm afraid.

That it's the only achievement I could ever complete.

That the sum of my parts is 0. Zero... A hapless number.

What is its purpose? What is its worth? So many questions

Spill from the void that it defies its primordial namesake

But retains the dread implied. Its spawn is before me,

Stating itself. Its cathedral words strike a hymn in

Me. The verses play inside my mind, echoing

Through its halls. A placeholder, but

Essential all the same. Stand tall,

Ye shells, you hold your

Futures in your holes.

I am whole.

Reviews

[Misery]

Nicely done, dear poet. Formatted beautifully and crafted with carefully chosen words.

[Emily]

Thank you, Misery!