quiet drama

the sun is out
old ladies are sitting across from my balcony
hanging their laundry
oblivious to the chaos going on only miles away

i once read about a lady in new york
she never left her apartment for 30 years
never had any guests
never talked to anyone
terrified of the world outside
can you imagine
never seeing the sun?

a red balloon floats past my head
it suspends itself for a moment
seeming to endlessly hover in the air
as if time stops
if only for a moment
it makes me believe
can i control time?
would that be my salvation?
would it be my demise?

breathing in. breathing out.
i want you out
or maybe i just want.

six thousand miles away from a red desert
purple lights
green eyes
yellow neon
and pink flamingo lamps
theres a blue river
and blue skies
but i cannot see past the other colors

my broken keys cannot open this apartment door
i knock and ask to be let in
and i count the seconds until then
in the dark
in this hallway
in this place
where i don’t recognize myself
and all i really want
is to see is the sun
and hang my laundry


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