The Hollow |
| by Tammie Bonadona |
Looking up from below
it's sketchy, but I can see
pieces of a person
that once belonged to me.
When I try to grab them,
they seem to fade away,
memories from a past I knew
but no longer have today,
Push yourself, so I've been told ,
be a mother and a wife.
You owe it to the ones you love
to sacrifice your life.
But what do you do when you're weary,
and you're tired and can't go on
to the hollow in the tunnel
your existence now belongs.
I long to do the things I see,
so each day I look above,
and try to reach the pieces
of the things I used to love.
They're there, then they're not,
so I rest my mind at ease,
to the hollow in the tunnel
that's become the life for me.
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