Weights

White Walls

I looked at the starch white walls of my room, searching for meaning. A blank stare with a minds focus. Like maybe I had missed something and wondered why it was so perfect. But the white walls told so much more–it was simplicity. I don’t need to look for much else. It’s here.

It’s in the hum of the fan, in the light that seeps through my blinds; just enough to make everything clear, but keep it all sacred.

My neighbor practices his piano above my ceiling. The keys go up and down, the notes fade in and fade out.

But it’s quiet as hell in here, he breathes. And I love it. I seek no more, and I see and feel no less.

[Written 6/3/17]

Keyhole

There’s a light in the dark that lingers through a hole.

It sleeps, but shines with every move made. It’s thin hairs of brightness stream through, right through. 

Intimidated. I can’t find another word but that, to sum up everything. The darkness that encloses such a vast space.

A space of love, a space of comfort, a space of kindness. But is it the darkness that sought me? There lies the confusion.

Am I looking into the dark, or am I the dark?

Connected on a wave length beyond a reach I didn’t think capable until it came into sight, into….light.

Find the key, hide the key.

time ticks

miss a beat

skip a beat

hell, I’m just trying to stay on beat.

how can I keep track when I can’t see where it’s going?

like an engineless train caught in a crosshair.

too faded, too jaded, but too entwined…to not care.

…what did I do?

avoid it while I can, but enjoy it because it’s evident.

a blessing and a curse, because  all the worst things are “heaven sent.“