March 5, 20163:45 AM
Mist and a red glow,The moon like a nearly closing eye.Life comes waiting like broken glass in the darkness.
I try my best to blur the lines that hold me back.
That doesn’t always work.
Oftentimes I make new lines.
Call them names like Busy and Not In The Mood.
Men with grave accents and women with worried mouthsgathered aroundall grey and grimunder the bridge.
Before I’m off for goodand gone,there’s more I’d like to sayof youand how you laughwith your entire bodyface afirewith joy I recognize as if all else were pitch.
What would happen if we left it all behind?
Throw away all the clocks.
And forget the time.
Without all the distraction,
The best part of being alone Is the silence. But it’s not so very silent. You can just hear your head better. Clearly,Voices (your own and others) fighting for attention.Not schizophrenia, (Though it could be.)Just the conflictedness that is humanity.
