control or lack thereof

 Our sense of security is only as strong as our gauge of the control we have over the things around us;

ever-wavering. Forever rippling in and out of itself in an attempt to find some balance. The scale is rapidly tipping back and forth, and we yearn for nothing more than to even out this weight. We've lost control of the things that are now beyond our grasp, so we stress and scrutinize over the things we think we can touch, though those things are just as fleeting as a watercolor painting submerged in rain. As fleeting as the last drop of sunlight as the sun dives below the horizon. As fleeting as the smoke you exhale from the final drag of your last cigarette. 

A Night and Day Trip

 An overwhelming sense of peace

washes over the tops of the trees as they

dance in the same cool breeze

that lifts my spirits.

Carrying leaves and pollen and mute colors

through the air around me as I

slowly inhale a beautiful shade of

pale orange. I let it

flow through me, calming the current of

blood coursing through my veins relentlessly.

My fingers twirl in the wind,

graceful but curious, seeking something

solid to grab hold of.

The sky looms closely to the tops of

tall buildings, threatening to collapse and

send the structures crumbling 

to the ground. All the stars hide shyly

behind the low purple clouds casting

a filmy layer of mystery and doubt across

the lid of the world.

Corners filled with darkness are

too inviting to trust;

shadows twisting and bending

at the will of any light I can find,

and I wield it as a weapon against

the unknown that whispers of swallowing me.