Without clear course
neither map nor compass
sailing along treacherous seas
of distraction, her ship was
hijacked as was her compassion.
Emotional parasites like mussels
on her carcass weighing her down
leeching off momentum until
she stranded on anxiety’s bank
stuck, unmoving, frozen in time.
Her life rafts torn by sudden
currents, all oars long brittle
so there was little left to do.
Out of the blue, the tempest
took her hard, crashing waves
and still warm corpses against
strange shores, covered in pain.
Feeding off salted hope, pickled
in tears, the way back home a
shattered illusion. A makeshift
hut of weeds and wishes, the
Anemoi her lullaby.
Just like a breeze aeons flew by,
her heart encrusted like her ship
accompanied by wind and storm.
Little by little passion dripped
her thought a constant mental storm
until her gaze turned milky white
one single quiet summer night.
© Matthias Geh, 2nd July 2018