By Sophie Raphael
The lights turn off and my existential crisis begins.
I am a lie and a figment of my own imagination,
Caught between who I want to be and who I’m settling to become.
I chop, re-design and change.
Should I be allowed to dream, to believe, to feel?
Fear of failure, I’m too afraid to fear,
It’s a burden and a weight on my tired shoulders.
I fear the dark, the shapes that shift with no rules,
Moving along my walls, waltzing to an eerie beat.
A tap drips; wind rustles the trees and loud breathing is heard,
Tormented, I twist and pull the sheets around me.
Sun rise,
Another night not slept.
I get ready and conceal my heavy eyes with heavy makeup.
Drawing a smile onto my face, opening the door to another day,
Knowing that it brings no meaning, purpose or value.
But I wait until dark to allow my crisis to begin once again.
Wells Street Journal 