I hesitated to leave as I felt your anxious eyes on me, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time; but as i pulled the knob to your apartment door back, I knew it would never welcome me back in.

Shuffling back to my transport where I feel more like a passenger, I take the scenic route and drive relentlessly along hoping to find my destination, but knowing it’s not home.

I debate between music and silence and try to find stability between the two, trying to drown out pain with pain until a numb-like comatose helps me accept what is real and what isn’t without stifle. What’s worse, hearing my own thoughts, or having my thoughts be manipulated by music? It depends on the music I suppose.

I circle into the parking lot of the local city park, where I’ve been coming a lot lately, and stare out to the edge of the peer as my peripheral nudges me towards the cityscape outline  in the distance. I don’t really know what I feel, I just want to pacify the pain with a pleasant view.

Sometimes I feel it best to come back to nature when the world, or should I say “My World,” is in turmoil; it’s literally grounding.


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