It is tranquil here
Everything silent the air is clear
Unlike the deafening roars
Ringing in my ears.
My vision has begun
To blur
To disappear
A half-drunken cup of coffee sits on the table
Just beyond my reach
A black fur ball curled beside me
Her gentle even breaths
Soothing my own.
I am at home in the gentle whir of the ceiling fan
In the darkness
In the purple half-moons that encompass my honey eyes.
I am at home in this silent chaos
Yet I wish to be elsewhere,
Among the wild city that never sleeps
Or the roaring oceans down the street
Or high in the clouds above
Anywhere beyond my
cautious, safe room.
But a wish is not an action,
And I am too tired to get up.