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.
