there’s a dull lull
whispering pain,
and it creeps through my head.
as rhythms and melodies feed directly into the deeper and darker parts of my skull
i watch
a curtain slowly dance to its own beat
as cold air fills the room.
light, like a dying moth
flits and flutters
scattering its accents
in various, seemingly nonsensical
spots on the floor, roof
and walls
i try to think of anything else
than things i see
but nothing comes
no deeper meaning
just observation.
and i see cars
as they pass by
outside, through the thin white veil
that allows the light to lazily fill the room.
catching my eye, due to the sun’s reflection off their windows
and metal bodies.
and because of the window,
that does as good of a job blocking sound
from the outside world,
as the thin white sheet covering this window
does at blocking light from this room,
i can hear them.
as they creep underneath my window
i can hear them fly by
on the freeway
less than a mile away.
and nothing comes,
no reason for justification
no frustration at stolen sleep
at the hands of thin windows,
nothing but mindless observation.
and that’s perfectly fine with me
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