Voices.

Writing is so very fun. I wrote this one last night, while listening to Modest Mouse. I’ve noticed that their music makes me want to write.

Are there voices
Whispers
Damaging a heart?
Are those questions
Picking us apart
A dry world never
Letting us press start
I see a little more
Each day
I find what makes
A heart
What drives my mind
Can only be found
In these hands of mine.

Stumble In And Stay For A While

In the dark night, nothing seemed more important than her own reflection. Idea after idea, after realization, after epiphany, she thought and thought, her reflection never getting any clearer. She wrestled, boxed, raced, fought and lost sight of the breeze, of the Earth’s great beauty, as she stumbled after this reflection. A soul troubled by nonexistent fears, by pressure placed so delicately, but permanently on her shoulders. Life, time, the race never-ending stood at her heart’s door, wanting only to make itself known. “Known to whom?” She would ask. And the light would dim; just another fight with self would begin. A mind not so quiet, rambles on and on, until the thoughts of another stumble in and stay for a while. Stumble in and stay for a while…

Reflection, mirrors drink me in and will not allow me leave, until this puzzle is solved. A mind not so quiet, and another thought: What comes with a day? The sun moves away too quickly to ever consider staying. The cowardly clouds move farther, as my steps push them away. A way into the world is what my mind tries to avoid. A void within the day drives me into the night, to contemplate what is in a mind.