This Pose of Regression
Why can’t this fog ever leave the skies? Why don’t these drops ever leave my eyes? This endless sensation…It’s burning. This pouring commotion is old. Why can’t I wipe them away forever on my own endeavor to be dry. Why can’t I wipe them away forever from my face. I’m weathered. It seems I’m on repeat; it never ends. This view is so cloudy. Let’s change the lens. Monotonous feelings…I’m learning. This pose of regression is cold. Turning to You will change things. Changing my view should make things clear, from last year.