Blank piece of paper stuck to the wall above my desk. Black lines blur with the white page and the white wall and all is sterile and inert. I try to add color. Want to float on the music unraveling from the CD player. Calls my mind to a different place. Familiar.
Selling a chance on a trip to a go no-where place. Folks unwilling to move from what they know . Hesitant to swap poverty for perhaps. Do those who leave pay a greater price in the end? What is the cost? Stalemate.
Flesh wounded by an internal struggle. Inside something died. Something new is spilling out, or trying. Pain in my side and left-hip sleep fills the night. Rain falls. I rest.
"Don't enter here." "Follow protocol." Signs in a maze of sameness and forfeiture. Some are lulled to sleep and wake to take a backward look at what could have been. Thankful for a scheduled departure. A chance to change. From the stillness; movement.
