I let my heavy eyelids fall and see all kinds of dancing blobs & ambiguous shapes.
Some of them whisper sinister thoughts & others sing minor scales that lull me to sleep.
Some of them lead to doors to some weekly curated fantasy of fresh new drama, hand picked soundtracks, and never-before-seen energy drink flavors.
I wonder how many of them lead to you,
Sitting all alone
With outstretched fingers, tapping the tunes of your soul on hollow tiles
Watching the world go by.
I wonder how many shades of dyed colors and pigmented oils made up your monochrome door.
I wonder if I brought you biscuits & tea, would you take them & how,
With bejeweled hands that have hurt & been hurt so many times that you’ve lost count.
December comes to an end & it just remembered to take away all your saved up resolutions & words you meant to act before another year slips away into a history of should’ves & shouldn’ts.
The biscuits are dry and the tea is cold.
Maybe next year I’ll learn how to make the things that I want to make.