a capital letter

maybe there's hope for me afterall

distant persistent beats

reverse . . . reverse . . . reverse

if i only could . . .

i dreamt of fire

i wake to fire

stretch out my hand into the young, bright, & golden ray

finger wrapped in brown bandages

i stand there staring at how i could find something so mundane so wonderful . . .so romantic . . .so beautiful

i slowly tilt my hand & turn it so that my palm is facing the pale-painted ceiling

i slowly open my palm, outstretching my fingers, then gently close it again as if to catch the ray

rays . . .a byproduct of fire

something beautiful can come of something terrifying

i need fresh air

morning air is filled with purity, a life unlived, untouched, untainted, unknown . . .

filled with dew & songs of birds & innocent light

maybe there is hope for me afterall