They say you can't be in two places at the same time. But once in a while you find yourself half a foot in and half a foot out.
Where you are blurred with where you aren't.
Who you are washed into a secondary color by who you appear to be.
There reminding me of how much I don't want to be here. Here not solid enough to make it anything else.
When you stand at the edge of the surf, the water will rush over your feet. As it retreats back to the ocean, the sand surrounding your toes gets carried away. If you don't move, you end up standing on a tiny ledge that's only there because your weight kept it from being swept out to sea.
Half in the water, half on the shore.
Skating around the rink, desperately clutching the rail.
Something in the rainy skies today, something in the focus through the window. Something I want to see so badly that I will forsake what I am supposed to do just to try and get a better look at it.
I'm not here.
Where you are blurred with where you aren't.
Who you are washed into a secondary color by who you appear to be.
There reminding me of how much I don't want to be here. Here not solid enough to make it anything else.
When you stand at the edge of the surf, the water will rush over your feet. As it retreats back to the ocean, the sand surrounding your toes gets carried away. If you don't move, you end up standing on a tiny ledge that's only there because your weight kept it from being swept out to sea.
Half in the water, half on the shore.
Skating around the rink, desperately clutching the rail.
Something in the rainy skies today, something in the focus through the window. Something I want to see so badly that I will forsake what I am supposed to do just to try and get a better look at it.
I'm not here.
- But I'm not there yet, either.