A Lost Soul

A (Prose) Poem

Light spills through the window revealing a lost soul, devoid of personal goals. A shell of productivity and societal backlash at its most sanguine.

Unencumbered by the nuclear nature of happenstance
She sits unburdened, a sense of calm washes over her
as the world spins violently against the window
of her third-floor apartment
sparsely furnished and
lacking aesthetic vision

But there she sat, content and unbothered. At peace and staunchly opposed to her neighbors clamoring out the door at 7:21 am to catch a bus or sit in traffic, while she just sat and looked out the window at all of the ants trying to build a hill.

She watched others try to achieve hustle and flow status by becoming workaholics and shelving all of their personal dreams in favor of $2,016 more per year, which also includes seven more hours a week

of work,

leaving even less time for self-care.

She spent her life focused on self
An unflinching portrait of strength
in a mirror of (lack of) ego
while the rest spiraled in detest
at their own lives, but continued
the robotic progression to a
small promotion and gigantic loss

of self.

And there she sat
on the couch in her living room,
staring out the window
of her third-floor apartment
in a non-descript area of town

A lost soul, devoid of personal goals.

Still

Amidst all the spinning

Happy

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