Waiting, Wondering in Wonderland

I will not start with once upon a time.

    This is not past tense.

    This is now.

    Every day.

Every second. Every minute.

      Looking in the looking glass,

         But I’m not satisfied at the reflection gleaming back. 

 

                  Pretty for a dark girl.

                  They say I’m smart.

     Smart for a black girl.

     They say I’m loud,

      So I must be black, girl?

 

I find myself falling down this rabbit hole habitually.

No, my name is not Alice.

But I’m spiraling down, my fingers reaching out.

I’m trying to stop time,

   These thoughts they unwind, a web of lies.

I continue to fall, every single day.

I guess I didn’t stand for something, so this is why

I’m steadily

D

     E

          S

               C

                    E

                         N

                              D

                                   I

                                       N

                                              G

I don’t want to reach the bottom

  Because if I do, I know it will be over.

Over.

Over like an incessant darkness.

Perhaps, this darkness won’t be so bad?

You see in this world, darkness breeds throughout the streets.

It spreads, it looms, it seeps.

 

I weep for this world.

Tears shed over another brother shot dead.

Reminiscent of Alice when she was a giant, treading in her own tears up to her neck.

I’m wearing Alice’s shoes.

Saltiness spreading across my tongue.

   The bitterness of my own tears overwhelm me.

 

How long have I been stuck in this wonderland?

Has it been seconds, minutes, or even years?

I cannot grasp realization.

    My feet are glued to this foundation,

    Time being wasted.

 

I’m stuck.

    An hourglass filled with rocks, instead of sand.

 

Stuck here dreaming,

         while time suspends.

 

Stuck here

   waiting,

        wondering

                about wonderland. 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

poetryfalcon

Beautiful. Keep going girl

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