these are the chronicles of the human condition, captured in a song and a thousand standing faces. who's to say what they might not know.
strange brown shoes and stranger laces, tying together the fabric of some small expression, creeping slowly, subtly over the crevasses of a mouth, upturned in some almost imperceptible acknowledgment.
distances are hallways, even if they are step away, leaving eyes to stare blankly at another pair without complete understanding.
they see. they are still blind. lost amidst the ocean of packed and crowded bodies, shifting for a better place to stand or hoping for an empty seat.
stop and go, an endless line, doors that never open for you but always open to let others in. packing in, packing up, squeezing in, shutting out.
the blink of an eye and the end of the song brings all the world into clarity. this is no condition. this is no difference. this is a day by day by day existence that has never seen a beginning and never seen an end.
until a head turns, and the doors open once more for you.
strange brown shoes and stranger laces, tying together the fabric of some small expression, creeping slowly, subtly over the crevasses of a mouth, upturned in some almost imperceptible acknowledgment.
distances are hallways, even if they are step away, leaving eyes to stare blankly at another pair without complete understanding.
they see. they are still blind. lost amidst the ocean of packed and crowded bodies, shifting for a better place to stand or hoping for an empty seat.
stop and go, an endless line, doors that never open for you but always open to let others in. packing in, packing up, squeezing in, shutting out.
the blink of an eye and the end of the song brings all the world into clarity. this is no condition. this is no difference. this is a day by day by day existence that has never seen a beginning and never seen an end.
until a head turns, and the doors open once more for you.
glass fingers
i took over the world at 7:43 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment