I try.
I try to focus my eyes,
I try to pick up on something in the gloom,
but heat and desires and expectations clog my vision,
leaving me blind and reaching.

I reach.
I reach for the height I cannot see,
I reach for what I think I should,
the breach between me and the horizon,
some light that should leave me hoping.

I hope.
I hope I’m almost there,
I hope I’ve escaped the deadlock,
the constant standstill of life,
but I’m only left falling.

I fall.
I fall from the fabricated midpoint,
I fall to the ground on worn concrete,
hard and unrelenting and blurred.

Something inside me is fractured –
a bone, my heart, my spirit.
I try to get up.
I try to reach again.
Again,
I’m reaching in the darkness for the happiness I cannot see.