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I am stifled by the stale air

The air you exhale in my presence

Puffs of nonsense that belittle

Sighs of disgust, yours, not mine

I try, but get knocked down

Pick myself up, only to fall again

Not at your feet, but at mine

Kneeling, praying, anything

To better understand the why

Or to not understand at all

I’ve been told so many times

And still, these days pass

And nights become terror

As I find myself lost in a dream

Or perhaps, more of a fog

Unable to see what lies ahead

Grateful to be unable to see

What I left behind


©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0