Sunrise in the City

I feel the pressure of

Fixed gazes from

Broken sockets and

Valves that let the

Steam evaporate,

But never drip,

Into the heatless air.

My hear races as

I sit in place,

In my place,

Paralyzed about

Whether or not to

Venture into the

Frozen expanse

Of cold snow and gazes.

They are only curious,

And I a curiosity,

Bending and blurring

Definitions that once

Held strong and fast,

Now called into question

By something

Not of this place.

Some cannot accept

The other that cannot be

Reconciled in the

Flickering street lights or

Hazy winter mornings

When the sun breaks itself

On the horizon

To spill it’s pink and

Orange blood

Into our minds.

I’ve contemplated running

Through the myriad

Hardened eyes,

Faces tattooed with

Repeated use,

To flee into the

Mountains abroad

To gaze from above

Upon the whole

Of it all.

To grasp for something,

Anything,

That can ease the

Palpitations and off-beat

Melody that comes

From this cacophonous

Orchestra with what

Seems to be

A drunken conductor

With warped baton.

Instead, I stay

In my designated seat,

Wrapped in the warmth

Of monotony

Some would say,

Familiarity would be

The choice of others

To describe what I have

In this.

All I see from within,

The mist I create

From my breath

Creates a curtain that

Ushers in a

Changing of reality,

Their perceptions fade

And I feel the blood

Entering my eyes,

Above and below.

Composed 11/12/2013

Author’s Note: Sometimes being so visible can be very draining on your mind. Some days are better than others, but some days you just don’t want to go outside. You’d rather stay inside and drink a beer, or tea, and live in your own insular world, if just for a while.