In the Middle

"In the Middle"

She sits
In the middle of an empty room
Listening to Nanci sing through the
Earphones of her walk-man

Helplessly glancing around at the bare walls
That seems so blindingly white

She watches as the sun sets in the evening
And wakes her squinting eyes in the morn’

Not sure whether she’s ever
Coming or going
Helping or hurting
Rising or falling

She sits
Surrounded by the last of her belongings
A suitcase full of worn out clothes
A backpack with books, paper and her all time favorite journal
A horror book
A pack of half smoked cigarettes
A purse too full to carry
And shoes that fit too small

Unexpectedly the loneliness hits
Weighing like eight pounds of sugar
On her heart

She can’t help to wonder
If she will ever piece back together
What all has been broken

At night
When she lays herself down to rest
She cries

In the morn’ when she wakes
Her eyes still puffy and red
Fill with tears once again

While during the day her heart aches
Remembering the fond memories
Of her loved ones and friends

Time passes and days move on
As the middle of the floor has grown warm
Where the heat of her body sits
Still unmoved on the floor, crying

Knowing in her heart changes need to of been made
But stubbornly didn’t want the change

So the warm spot
In the middle of the floor
Will soon turn cold
As she leaves this secure
White hidden room
Of a different color
Different wall hangings
And hopefully a different loneliness

A loneliness
That’s only the imagination
From far deep within herself

Too far to see
Too far to accept
An imagination too far to feel

For now though
All of this lies
In the middle of her floor

© Copyright by Martha w/ Dreaming2Fly System