Thoughts

Swirling thoughts and drifting lights

These things made up my Friday night

Distant bugs sing the same song

The same song as always

Always the same thoughts

The shine of the town comes to life the same way

Burning like they always do

This creaky fan stirs a storm

Round and round

Just like those thoughts

All about him

The dark silhouette of trees form monsters

But those monsters are always the same

Just like him

Those monsters stalk for dreams,

But fall asleep before me

When those monsters come close

The thoughts are too scary

Even for them

Him, him, him.

Can’t get over him

Those thoughts circle like vultures

They’re the same as the tide

Back and forth

In and out

The light of the screen dulls thoughts

The ache to speak

To be heard

To care for me

The thoughts that should be followed

Sink away too

Burning sun and heavy burdens

Not just my thoughts

All their thoughts

All their problems

Just to save me from my own

Saving others from the monsters

For mine are too strong

The thoughts about him

Echo down the path

As gone as he is now

Thoughts come less

Maybe they circle wider

The monsters fade

Not forever

Not the same

But he is fading too

Fading like his smile

The bugs still sing

The fan still spins

The lights still shine

But after all

Change can come slow

By Seb, no planning went into this and was very bad, so forgive me for that

Questions

When does dusk turn to night? What do we consider the border? Is there one? Why do we leave things so blurry with holes to fill in? When does the mind go from sad to depressed and from stressed to anxious? What about when our words fade to noise? When does what we are saying loose meaning, simply noise to avoid silence? Who decides when your silence is awkward or companionable? Is it both? How do decide without breaking silence? Why does silence become deafening and when does it begin to crush you? Can you tell me the answers, can you tell me when others start asking the hard things? Can you tell me when we lost our curiosity, our dying race? We sought knowledge like a dragon seeks treasure and yet now we all settle for what we are given and what we are served. When did this become acceptable, to sit and idly decay staring at screens? When did we stop seeking answers, especially when finding them yourself breathes life into the world? When did black and white and grey become the colours of the world, towering in cities, driving past us and leeching our life? When did our spectrum become so dull and our minds so bleak? Colours are a drug that fill our minds, souls and bodies with energy, from the deepest reds of rage to the brightest yellows of joy. When did our dose of colour become the same grey pills everyday? Why has most of the world given up on the flair of colour... I guess one day we’ll know.