No Way Out
Desperation And Survival
A doorknob twists
a burst of air fills
the room – ice cold.
An odd feeling
someone is watching
a person who knew
more about me –
more than I knew
about myself.
Cold air ate away
at the heat
frosted a window.
Slowly taking control of
me – and each breath
I struggled – trying
to fill my lungs
I knew there was
no way out
nowhere to run.
Nancy I feel this way a lot. I wonder if all writers feel there is no way to turn except to their pallets, computers and television. We’re prisoners of our crafts.
Joyce
We are creatures of the creativity that causes us to remain in place – striving to finish a project, ignoring other things that just happen to fall on our path – and when you are working at home – I am sure we can list many instances when our creative thought process is disturbed by those we love, adore, and want to keep far away at that very moment. We are a sprecial breed. LOL Thanks, Nancy