I'm going to eject this thought out into the air where it meets your silent stare, to get processed underneath your hair, your opinion you might share, I just hope you took the time to care, and aren't speaking just so that this moment wasn't bare:
I'm on the outside looking outwards as these thoughts invade the space I reserved for this page and now as you read your mind is opening the door to this crazy that I'm laying out in nice little rows. This night time can get heavy, sometimes all I need is a candle to lighten it up, so I'm burning this wick, watching time drip down the sides frozen in the moment. I think I prefer these moments of frozen silence by myself, undone by the golden sun, that wakes up these noisy lumps of carbon, shake me from my dreams when the moon isn't outshone by that big ball of burning bright and the stars finally get to shine so I can spend all night putting this silence back together, though, just as the setting sun brings a sunrise, this silence will be broken, a cycle I have grown addicted to. Just more words I will never say out loud, so many cross through this processor someone put in my head, but so few thoughts get processed into a language so many understand, stuck floating, intangible as this next thing I won't write
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