(no subject)
Laying on the cold contemplative floor I stare at the ceiling fan twirling one…two…three
I try to think…but nothing comes to mind
I close my eyes…no thoughts or pictures appear…just the darkness of my closed eyelids and the shadow of the fan twirling…one…two…three
Where are they hiding?
The words that I want so much to speak
Perhaps I am too weak to make a sound
The further I travel the darkness becomes thicker and thicker
Until the shadow of the fan fades away...
I try to think…but nothing comes to mind
I close my eyes…no thoughts or pictures appear…just the darkness of my closed eyelids and the shadow of the fan twirling…one…two…three
Where are they hiding?
The words that I want so much to speak
Perhaps I am too weak to make a sound
The further I travel the darkness becomes thicker and thicker
Until the shadow of the fan fades away...