No Fooling

by | Mar 13, 2020

When routine becomes monotony. Doubt is served with berries at breakfast. Between slices of toast midday. And as a full meal at six. Who am I fooling.

What are walls for. To keep me safe inside. To lure me into the beyond. Are they there to go through. Or so I can bounce off them. The persona or the person.

I wake up to a room getting smaller. And decorate walls that are bare. By dusk there’s no white space left. And the walls face outward. Where did the day go.

All This By Hand