Drifting Along

As I feel the creak of my sanity in my weary bones

I feel listless, lethargic and languid

I hunger for what little I can hold onto

Or of what little remains of my being

I can almost touch reality; or is that a fallacy?

Are we made to believe we are part of the norm?

I struggle with these aimless, inane thoughts

As I tread water barely keeping afloat

Am I drowning in self-pity or just drifting along?

Or am I just as thoroughly confused as the rest.

Jessica Kish - 1/22/97