Sunday, July 15, 2007

Where the Carpet Ends

Pour out of me again, please
Speak, tell me what’s still in there
Because I don’t know anymore, and I kind of think I might need to.
Once upon a time
When I was littler
the outside world had walls where the carpeting stopped
But now
That it’s so much bigger and wider and inclusive and whole
And I can breathe again
I have no clue what’s left on the inside
My inner alleyways and byways and pathways are still where they always were
But they have no destination
No final place where the prize is and I can rest
There is only more road and while I do kind of have a thing for cement,
It’s exhausting and confusing and I don’t know where I stand
Or if I stand
Because honestly, it’s possible that the road is moving along underneath me
And my movement may not be mine and it may not be movement
the walls have been permanently removed and the carpeting goes on forever
And so you see, I really don’t have a clue what the bloody hell is going on
And I’d kind of like to. Cuz, you know
the knowing,
it just might come in handy sometime
Is all.


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