It was nothing until it was everything.
living and –
Falling as easy as being alive;
blurring the lines and finding it more beautiful than
anything I’ve ever created.
It was everything
until it was nothing.
Just silence and
existing and –
Pulling the drapes closed and the curtains down
not knowing till I was stumbling around in the dark
waiting for applause that never came.
Starting to fall asleep,
lulled into the nightmarish daydream:
a paradoxical bitter-sweet guilty pleasure that
always ends the same way.
A little too honest?
No picket fences?
No cheap applause?
Every story has a beginning…
but it’s only a means to its end.