Sometimes you feel like a dream, other times you feel like a memory, a memory fighting to stay alive in my mind but unwilling to settle.
Sometimes I wake up and you are the first thing on my mind, like I can almost taste the feeling of your presence, other times like when I fall asleep at night, I feel you drifting away from my fingers, I try to hold on but you slip off like smoke wafting from a cigarette.
Sometimes I think I know you, other times you are the biggest stranger to my heart. Like when I lose my line of thought and consciousness and become a stranger to my own body. You keep things interesting.
When I try to figure you out, I think of shapes, shapes I don't understand, figures that have no meaning yet they tickle my mind. The shapes begin to take different forms, they shrink and they expand, they shift; and I just sit and watch. Am I doing that with my mind or it is all you?
I think we have an understanding, that sometimes you taunt me and other times you soothe my mind. I don't think you know me enough, because you are afraid to stay, to leave a lasting impact, to let me hold you. Does something about me scare you?
I speak of a feeling, or should I say an experience, a consciousness. I don't think there is a word that makes sense, maybe I'm not aware of the word that makes sense but that is okay, because your place is not on the pages but in my heart.
Your place is in my heart? Actually I don't know about that because you are not always kind to my heart. Sometimes it is your presence or your absence that leaves me vulnerable and open to the cruel company of aloneness.
Maybe you understand kindness differently, after all you are of a different world. What world? It would be nice if you could pick a place but that isn't your nature, Is it? Your place is in between worlds, in between minds.
Hold on, is it just me? Or are they other minds you have erected huts in? What are you and why can't you make me home?
I am at peace with you regardless, because you bring me sunshine and water my gardens. Like a green grass standing and blooming in the midst of dryness you keep me hopeful.
I speak of a distant feeling of peace, certainty and belonging. Now that is ironic because you are equally inconsistent, uncertain and chaotic.
So close, yet distant.
Just as I feel gravity without knowing how it works, I have accepted the distant taste of your company without understanding it.
Like a green grass standing and blooming in the midst of dryness you keep me hopeful.
All Images displayed are mine, and and taken on my phone. Follow me on my blog atyourservice
