. . . . where can i find the one thing i’ve been missing? looking beyond the grasp of these hands; digging, searching. day after day, waking up to quick sand dreams, driving into the same postcard picture, turning here, instead of there. because most of the time, i feel like i’m coming apart at every nail; and then, she enters my mind, my sight; finding my light. and then, everything i was mad at, everything i was stressed out about; it all seems to just disappear, all in a matter of moments. the hours seem like simple minutes, and my eyes open, and its all there, nothing but the empty room, reality, and im all alone again, and i want to go back to sleep. . . .
c. 2013 BGW