Other side is far more daunting than it seems.
One touch of heart beats; silenced, muffled, and muted.
Can’t help this precious world-view from calming insides which rumble.
Stale orange crackers crunch under teeth.
Just keep on slowly breathing…
under plushy spongy light bluish-green lungs.
Everything will get better, and that careful headache will go away…
No one can read these scribbles and scratches
as soft silence bears down on us all
and rests its weary head over this room; hands flopping on the floor,
giant torso limp,
legs stiff as wooden marionettes,
feet slumped on the ground,
just resting.
Silence sits here,
lying down
heaving quiet, invisible snores.
Only the sharp tap of computer keys,
gurgling of one upset belly, breaths, yawns, and shuffles are heard.
And the quick sound of a mechanical pencil writing on white, blue-lined paper.
Why are the lines “blue” anyways? why not purple or green or red or black?
Why can’t the side-line be a nice turquoise color instead of pink?
No answers evolve, as one more sentence emerges.
Leave the last line for Silence; Leave it be.
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