Frozen

It feels like months

Where have I traveled?

A place of mystery and uncertainty

I can’t believe I am here

In this place, at this moment

Thinking, relishing, questioning

My purpose, my call, my existence

Surrounded but alone

Clinging to hope yet untethered

Trapped in the crevices of thought

I’ve traveled here before

It’s uncomfortable, that face, the reflection

Its shadow reaching out to hug me

Whispers of I love you, you have a purpose

You exist for a reason

I don’t embrace it

I turn off the light

Tears run down the mirror

I’ve been here before, it hasn’t been days

It’s been hours

In front of an empty table

Food cold, coffee bland, water lukewarm

Depression says hello

 

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About The Endurer

Tony Briscoe is a spoken word artist and coach, a youth minister and mentor. He also does life poetic expression production for people that don't have a voice and desire to be heard. He was born and raised in Chicago and lives to serve young people, adults suffering from childhood pain, and a serious passion for God's daughters. He is....The Endurer.

2 responses to “Frozen”

  1. Gary Barnard Dotson says :

    You are in the literary class of T.S. Eliot with your ability to not only capture, but also to articulate that which is melancholy and the emotionally subdued and broken. This will help many IN THE CHURCH that wrestle with depression and feelings of hopelessness, or of losing one’s sense of purpose. As for you, talk to me if you ever get here, my brother. Love you, much.

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