he texted her from the empty car,
thinking she could bring
him something. the problem was,
there was another “she” – another
She he wanted (but in fact, they
were one and the same.)
Advil couldn’t kill the inside
of his head, or stop the incessant
noise. he needed a staircase
that didn’t keep going – one
that could provide him a view –
some Love –
from the top.
Life is noise. There’s no way around that. What we can control is how much we enter into the silence.
I used to be afraid of silence. The truth is, the noise is what’s to be feared. What it keeps us from hearing lies in wait, to emerge and bring forth a butterfly.
Life is also a staircase, but not the way we are taught. And figuring that distinction out is the key to climbing anywhere worthwhile.
