clean sheets, a friend, and the smell of pine
The curtains drawn in a dimly lit room.
A golden thread of sun slips through the pleats,
The twilight plays as a loom,
With its weavings resting on the sheets.
Two people sit in only the company of each other.
Uncaring of the dark plain place,
With dirty laundry splayed only a bit further,
Smiling and giggling along with the familiar grace.
Messy like a dirty pig stall,
But that won’t change its meaning.
It feels like a bright home, above all.
With nothing daring of intervening.
A flare of burning white
Then deep blue
A butterfly flaps its wings only once in the bright
Gone.
The colors fade.
It’s dull now.
Boring.
The cheer.
Reduced to cracks on a wall.
A sigh.
A head falls on a desk.
Papers make a bad sound.
Meaningless words.
The lights are too bright.
The sound is too loud.
I don't like it here.
Eyes focus somewhere else.
Another crack,
In the white stone walls.
Papers go ignored.
For another day.
Focused, then unfocused.
Forced back into the color.
A hero walks along a bright path,
With a sword on one side and a friend on the other.
Traveling through peace and through wrath,
With all their freedom to discover.
The entire multiverse, open to their minds!
To explore together on a never-ending journey!
With no need to worry of confines,
For nothing would be blurry.
Through anywhere, through anything.
Leaving a trail of freshly bloomed kindness,
Scampering through fresh fields of Spring,
A vivid land, with no ties to bind us.
A blissful garden built of gorgeous life
A butterfly again
Leaving a trail of spife
Gone.
A stare.
They’re looking at me.
What did they say?
I’ll nod.
That’s fine.
I want to leave.
A walk down a hall.
A quiet hall.
An empty hall.
A bathroom stall.
Again.
Running away again.
I lean on the wall.
Focusing on the tile.
Just forget, again.
Calm down.
A quaint tea shop off the corner of the street,
With trees of pine creating its own oasis.
A piece of peace as a treat.
Eyes unfocused blend into familiar faces,
Cheerful laughter around the table,
From people all of the same mind.
All rested among the vivid leaves of maple,
All details outside the canopy left undefined.
My mind starts to wander,
Off to lands that have yet been developed.
With faceless names and nameless faces to ponder.
Beyond the canopy in which we’re enveloped.
A deep sigh,
A butterfly
The sound of a door slamming
Stuck frozen still.
Someone’s here now.
I should leave.
Yet I can’t move myself.
Stuck in my own mind.
Where everything is better,
Better than the boring life I sleep away.
The life I see is dull.
Gray and boring.
Bland and uninteresting.
So instead,
I’ll let myself get lost in my head.
In a world of my own,
Where everything is what I desire,
And what I desire is everything.
Anything will happen if I so wish it.
A world to daydream in when reality isn’t what I want.
Something to do in my boring life.
Of gray colors and boring conversations.
So why,
Why force myself into gray anxiety?
When there's dozens of vibrant and colorful worlds,
Waiting for me in my mind?
And so I go, half in the moment,
Never fully conscious.
Always pretending I’m something I can't be.
Just barely hanging on,
so maybe one day,
I might not be Gone.
