Contrast

One of my more obscure scribblins... think of it what you will.

Descending into this faded view,
I’m not sure where I’m going, or where I’ve been for that matter.
We’re never quite sure where we end up.
For some there’s comfort that lies in that fact.
For others, like myself,
it leaves an uneasy feeling in the back of our throats.
Tossing and turning, the sheets scrap every inch of my skin in the darkness.
Rough like sandpaper, this cotton weave transcends reality.
A dim light beams brightly onto the back of my cornea like a laser beam.
The street light flickers,
on and off in a redundant act that becomes so familiar, it feels like a piece of home.
Sinking deeper now, turning away from the light.
Now home drifts farther away than ever before,
Not even a secret can survive here.
Alone at last.