Photo credit: Josh Marshall
I felt, rather then saw the energy surrounding me.
My skin was radiating, being sized like a fine glove.
The blood in my veins, hot, circulating, fueling my soul.
My eyes were focused, seeing into the future.
I heard the whispers of all the departed souls.
Screaming my name, begging for me to help them.
My footsteps are but a mere distraction in life.
I wish I could help the voices in my head.
I try to reach out to them.
My days are endless, voices I can’t see, calling my name.
I beg for mercy.
No one listens to me, they just see me.
Chris Remele is an abstract expressionist painter and poet. He resides in Chicago, Illinois.