Limbo. | poem
I stood outside breathing the cold air, looking up at the cloudy sky and asked “Universe, who am I and what am I supposed to do?”
Because right now I feel on edge, there’s an invisible itch, nerves and a bit of longing for something in the unknown, in the far beyond - there’s something ahead of me. My heart has tapped into this frequency that there’s something I must be doing but I’m not. Perhaps it’s my eventual awakening from the fear of failure paralysis that has kept me at a complete standstill for a while. I feel in limbo, not sure of who or what I am. The questions of purpose creep into my mind and I browse books and quotes for a sign but it’s currently not available. So instead, in the dim night light, I write.