I’m in this middle space.
It’s… been odd.
Tied to high hanging hopes,
But grounded with ambition.
The blinds and curtains have been torched.
White walls soaking light.
My heartbeat sings and echoes are absorbed.
There’s a stillness.
The feeling right before the whistle goes off.
Stomach in knots and fire burning.
I feel electricity,
Like my veins are wires generating spark with each pulse.
Connected again.
A lightning fear accompanied by thundering uncertainty.
Drowned out in a yellow-lit downpour.
A skies happy release
With each crash I feel words press against my teeth.
Blood runs thin
Marks on the back of my hand.
Dreams show me things I used to never see.
It’s hard to not get carried away in them
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