I've been staring at the ceiling,

it is off white,

and bumpy,

and very, very boring. 

sometimes it is so lonely your chest feels like its made of glass,  

and you're one blow away from having it shatter into a million glittering pieces. 

But that is not how i feel tonight. 

 

sometimes it is so wonderful you feel like if you weren't a sad featherless creature

you could burst into the sky with your happiness and sing it off at the top of the most jagged cliff

and the world would rejoice with you in echoes.  

but that is not how i feel tonight. 

 

tonight i stare at the ceiling 

i feel a humming in my bones.

people move around me like bees

a blur of patterns

so intent and intense 

and i am standing still, so still

watching. 

and all i keep thinking is

maybe,

 maybe,

 maybe,

or not.