The empty space spins like a drill tip aiming for my skull
providence lost in a free-fall
a doom spiral unraveling
with a pit of vipers like a halo around my head
I’m stuck drawing self-portraits in chalk
trying to decide which outline looks better on the bathroom floor
Written for OctPoWriMo 2020. 31 poems, 31 days.
Well, okay, so I took the prompt concept in a different direction. Rather, I chose to explore the other side of the gratitude coin. I know, I hate being self-referential as much as the next poet, but when it comes, it comes.
And of course WHEN it comes, it comes just like this poem does.