I wrote a poem, just now. More of a cathartic release, trying to make sense of something that happened last semester. It was the worst time of my entire life. I'm not even really sure why I'm posting it. Disabling comments, because I wrote it for me.
The floor drops out from under you.
and you wonder why? What happened?
What did I do?
And then you land.
And the floor isn't as solid as it once was,
it's spongy and soft.
but it's there.
So you walk more carefully, and pretend.
Pretend like you aren't afraid it will drop again.
And then it does.
No warning, just gone.
And you're falling, but this time the floor doesn't come back.
Just an endless abyss
of fear, anxiety, loneliness, despair.
No end in sight.
And you wait
you wait for the floor,
you wait to land.
you keep waiting.
Then you wonder, I've fallen so far,
can I survive the landing?
Or will I be mangled, scarred, broken?
Still no floor, no stability.
Still free-falling.
And now, it's been so long,
you stop hoping for the floor,
and start wishing for the end.