My parched throat yearns for something fresh.

My dry eyes wish I could see vibrancy in these skies.

My callous hands try to hold a lifeline that too often slips through my numb fingers.

My voice shouts at too many imagined valleys, heights, and twists.

But all my ears feel is the vibration of my own echoes in return;

Reminding me that too often, I have been reaching toward something

I just can’t put my finger on– something that still leaves me feeling alone.

–Written by Sandy Heights

Image by Foundry Co from Pixabay

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