Thoughts on Sunbeams

Why is it that on somedays,

I mentally kneel down,

Tilt my head to the sky,

Touch my fingers to my brows,

My chest,

Shoulder pads,

Praise the omnipotent.

Not exactly,

Pious.

But, something sends a release.

Maybe I fear grave yards,

The spirits slowly shifting three quarters watching,

Telling,

Judgement.

Or that my heart breaks,

Pieces,

For the pain of living.

In this world,

In my mind,

Of complete destruction.

Apathy.

I praise you.

So, will you let me in?

Don’t answer.

Let me remember the days of bright sunbeams,

Shining through murky windows,

Warming my skin.

The brilliant blues of a clear day.

And the far away gaze of someone,

Seeking solace here.

Speak no evil,

Willful ignorance.

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