With the faint and ever lingering humming of cars in the distance
And incandescents hanging outside my windows which never seem to rest.
White noise for the desperate.
How long has it been since my dreams took hold?
Leading to lush lands? Islands teaming of vibrant thought and endearing peace?
How lucky mellow-minds are.
Free to stroll through fields of wild ponderings and soft-oranged mornings
To welcome sleep’s soft hand, nurturing and pleasant, like a mother’s tender touch. Knowing your rest and time are blessed.
Rather than embrace it as cold escapism. A hamac of obscurity. An unplugging tool to hinder the surges
Pardoning a fool’s head with levity thus allowing it to hang lighter
What time is it now? Three more hours? Then, is there not a choice?
I recall traveling endless kilometers within my living room. Carving a path through my carpet
Pacing my worries. Passing and pacing. Endless.
Your mind is the worse enemy.
Days gone by remind me of quieter times
When I did not loose myself in the rules of numbers & words, and lived.
I am still like that inside. I know it! I think…
I can see it, when I am not empty like a canteen or peddling fears to myself
Something hardly ever seen in my mind now, are the galleries of memories. My museum of flashbacks.
Halls full of wonders, some innocent like those of a child. Or some among loved ones –Spring picnics, drunken nights and love making on a whim. Gently running your fingers across someone’s lips before that first soft, lusting kiss.
All of them now amalgamated within the retreat of my mind, along my statues of granite reason. What will happen to them? I wonder.
As the comfort of silence, unleashed and uncontrolled can make you mad
So then, when they found me the next day. They couldn’t understand it. How could they? You can’t blame them either. I didn’t, and I was there
Ah, silence! Peaceful. And right before I fade. Just before I fade.
I despised the white noise, a pestilent symphony without coda. Never desisting. Now, I see nothing.
Only blackness. Blinded.
Dear God, …where am I?