still

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via pinterest

the sea laps against the shore outside, foamed with forgotten things. the window twists the sun into comforting patterns. i seek for bitterness left in my heart,

but i can't even find crumbs. 

time sits with me, and it is slow. the day does not pass as quickly as i want it to. my mind is too distraught to do anything else, and too lonely to be left alone.

still, we are, only the ticking of the clock heard throughout the house. i yawn and my bare feet are silent on the ground. there is nothing to find, but still i go. books cannot hold my attention and i am not in the mood for screens. 

i grab a glass of milk, and sit again. i do not know how to describe the passing time because it goes by so slowly that even minutes seem longer than anything else. my mind drifts to you. there is no resentment there. i am okay. 

memories tell me that i would be miserable, and i can't help but laugh. because i am not miserable, but a little disappointed. not too much. like the smallness of expecting a letter and finding none in the mailbox. 

no more doubts. no more mulling. it is time for me to move on and find something to do. the hours have passed, not a thing done. i understand a little more about love. 

- c.d/b.

day person

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i stretch to touch the morning,
eyes gleaming with deep blue.
rice cooks on the stove and i hear my father,
an early-riser with wrinkles around his eyes,
setting the table.

i lie under my blankets,
just thinking.
the birds outside tell each other good morning,
and i listen in.

love settles in my heart deeper than ever before.
i am soaking under the weight of it.

the day always suited me better than the night.

the noisy silence

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i have come to realize that i am nothing more.

i am full of yawning, and rubbing my eyes.
angry tears and sad sniffles.
loud mornings that talk of laziness --
the kind that leaves you more tired than you were before you slept.

the shower is warm and i spend my time thinking,
but we are left with silence that rings in my ears so loud i can hardly bear it.

your ears become accustomed to noises you hear constantly,
and i think i miss the noise.

sit with me awhile, Lord, and do not let me sift through these thoughts.
for they are all the more loud in the silence.
be still, o my soul, o my mind.

the Lord is here and he is peace.
teach me peace in the silence.

chase

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chase these lines on my hands
and find that they lead to nothing
no awed ending nor
any meaningful word.

sometimes the things we chase after
are, indeed, nothing at all.
a faded glimpse, a book with missing pages.

so please do not be disappointed
when you reach the end and find

that i am just a muddled mess.

from dust i came and to dust i'll go.