it won’t always be like this
I know, I understand.
but it feels like this right now
and this is the moment I’m in.
with water flowing down my back
and tears pouring down my face.
I knelt on the shower floor
and let it all come out.
exhaustion and stress
a paralyzing blend.
of sensations that kill creativity
and leave me standing still.
I don’t have a moment to breathe right now
to exhale away the day.
from the moment it starts all eyes on me
and there is no refuge for me to hide.
there are no moments to sit and reflect
to let words float around in my mind.
no time to sit and stare at the trees
and let them sing to me.
this might not be important to those
who don’t live and breathe words.
but for those who do, you understand
it feels like a silent death.
last night I dreamt a story
that I wanted so badly to write.
but with dawn and the alarm and the inevitable day
I felt the words crawl away.
I dreamt of a friend I had found
who understood the words.
the meaning hidden in the rhythm
and the cadence of the song.
I dreamt that she came to my doorstep
and sat in the middle of the floor.
surrounded by books, piles of them
and waited patiently for me.
the irony in the dream was that I had run
and sat in front of her door.
needing the solace and consolation
of one who understands.
so while I sat, waiting for her
and she sat waiting for me.
the alarm rang and took that dream
but the message wasn’t lost.
in the shower it hit me full force
and flowed out with my tears.
I did have someone who understood
she just wasn’t standing here.
she listens though, and hears
and through words reaches me.
I just haven’t had the time to hear
and the solitude sometimes wins.