Particles of despair spin midair.
They soon become swallowed and part of me
before there’s a chance of being wiped away.
I try and I try and only return to asking:
How is this pain necessary?
Is not struggling even an option?
Is my negative perspective the only guideline I carry?
The nature of it does not resemble the ideal.
When it starts to feel like
we’re falling off track from living the dream,
there’s a knock on the door. We shake off the covers
to awaken where unicorns fly above rainbows
and oh, how we wonder with befuddlement,
‘how did we get here?’