Dishevelled Soul

Disheveled Soul


Disconnecting from my soul, inside a bathroom stall:

the nine by eleven spins, out of control, somewhere

the real me thinks about a way to show up in the world.


Lower, and lower, and lower, and lower I go, until

there is no where left to go. Waves of anxiety

cognizance reminds me of what life used to be.


Comatosed in a passionless, excitementless desert

full of defunct tiresome clans, sluggishly wading

through a breathless uninteresting existence.


Deep breath in, I force myself out of the bathroom stall,

dishevelled, uninspired, dead woman walking,

exhale, maybe tomorrow will be better, maybe.

– L.J. Lenehan –

Photo by Radovani Image


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