Desert Island

I wonder if all this emptiness I carry serves as my armor.

Am I saving myself or am I following the recipe for disaster?

Is there more to me than the nothingness and the roaring rage?

I feel like if I take a single step, they will burn this stage.

Therefore, I stay in place and wait for the waves to pass.

Some voices tell me that I am plastic, but I smell like grass.

These memories buried deep in my chest, they want out,

But the whispers are getting louder, so they avoid the crowds.

I wonder if all this loneliness will ever pay off my debts.

Will life come to collect or will it let love trap me in nets?

Everyone promised to warn me when the first cloud formed.

I feel like a desert island caught in the middle of a storm.

-Jackie