Can’t seem to tell if this light is real
or just some rude glare
getting my hopes up.
Subconsciously avoiding it all,
playing roles to suit situations,
never dealing with the truth,
like a widow who still makes
breakfast for two.
Peeled away from the glue of reality,
finding a better adhesion in avoidance.

Unwinding a mind that’s been tethered
to the same ideas for years proves tedious and redundant.
It’s all just memories,
hauntingly replaying the past,
or getting caught in conjured up
apparitions of the future:
there is no truth here.
Only distorted perceptions
that turn to deception and a saving grace
for the face we would rather not show.

And we run like clocks, ticking thoughts
like time bombs fueled by fear for the future,
as youth has failed to learn to tell time.
The seconds are never long enough,
yet are frivolously coaxed to go faster.

Conflict becomes nonexistent,
too afraid to look it’s direction.
Choose selections that are selfish,
but easier to manage.
Staying silent strangers,
like blind men in a house of mirrors.


~kb