Stepping Stones

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Emotions swirled like mixed paints
Clinging and drying to white plastic
Lingering until a thin blade swipes through
Ripping it away
Forcing it from the places in which it sits
A constant reminder of loss
One that seeks to stain clean surfaces of memory
Why is it i'm still alive
To reap the sorrows of mortality
No matter the swell of sadness
A crippling fear of death
Is what continues the clock to tick
A faint sound
Echoing through a hollow head
Letting the days fade into grey
Scrambling to put pieces back together
As it all keeps falling apart
What am I to do with it all
A ceaseless cycle
Of not only worthless emotions
But a sadness that digs so deep
That it becomes part of me

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