I stared at the ceiling
With the blankets expression on my face
I thought of my future
Along with all my past failures
My life seemed to mimic
A locomotive that had lost its breaks
I was moving in a singular direction
With nothing to stop me
I thought of all the people I've hurt
And those I've yet to betray
I peeked at the corners of my room
They grew darker with every blink
They bore a striking similarity to my life
It all seemed to grow dark
From the outer corners in
And I was the middle
I'm always the middle
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
I stared at the ceiling
With the blankets expression on my face
I thought of my future
Along with all my past failures
My life seemed to mimic
A locomotive that had lost its breaks
I was moving in a singular direction
With nothing to stop me
I thought of all the people I've hurt
And those I've yet to betray
I peeked at the corners of my room
They grew darker with every blink
They bore a striking similarity to my life
It all seemed to grow dark
From the outer corners in
And I was the middle
I'm always the middle
Christopher Zaghi 2014
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