my mind without a tangible form.
turn my head. counterclockwise. in the direction of when. some ubiquitious memory of happiness that speckles my past. some legend or myth as it would. ghost of a ghost.
i cross my legs. release them from the floor. high up on the plateau of the chair. tucked away into my abdomen like every other extremity my life has found little necessity for.
only just to move me from place to place when i'd rather have just stayed where i was. only just to pedal me far from home leaving me stranded. dependant upon those weary limbs to propel me all that way back home again.
dog paddle through those dense pages. the big words of a life lived even bigger yet. joy and sorrow trading blows in the back of my heart as my mind referees them.
all that motion. and movement. restless soul wandering and all the same wishing to be content staying home. but what's home except where we feel most at ease. what's home other than that pandora's box inside ourselves where hope still keeps.
i cross my legs. release them from the floor. high up on the plateau of the chair. tucked away into my abdomen like every other extremity my life has found little necessity for.
only just to move me from place to place when i'd rather have just stayed where i was. only just to pedal me far from home leaving me stranded. dependant upon those weary limbs to propel me all that way back home again.
dog paddle through those dense pages. the big words of a life lived even bigger yet. joy and sorrow trading blows in the back of my heart as my mind referees them.
all that motion. and movement. restless soul wandering and all the same wishing to be content staying home. but what's home except where we feel most at ease. what's home other than that pandora's box inside ourselves where hope still keeps.