legs crossed over each other
hands by my side
i sit here in this chair
but i travel with my mind
i breathe in smoky air
and exhale wisps tinged in purple.
they form pictures before my eyes
in them i read stories better than any in a book.
my stream of conscience flows,
undulating as if a scarf stolen by the wind,
up down and all around.
never settling until the wind stops
when will the wind stop?
never. i hope.
however,
all good things must end.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
what are these thoughts that cross my mind?
what do they mean?
why do they shake my resolve?
these thoughts.
these thoughts.
they complicate.
they deviate
my focus.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC