Nothing at All

Pen to paper, I’ll write it all down,
And I’ll pretend that it means nothing at all.
But if there’s nothing that is happening,
In the hours that are the night,
What is it I’m not writing about?

Your vision is blurred in what you refuse to see,
Perspectives from the people of day.
Your senses are muted and buried by the heart
Overcompensating to pretend that it’s free.

Oaths that were taken on that sacred day,
Only realized in the role that you play.
It’s all part of how you learn to live with the lies -
Disconnected from nothing happening today.

Confessor to friend, I’ll lay it all down,
And I’ll pretend it means nothing at all.
But if there’s nothing that is happening,
In these things that make up you and she,
What is it I’m not talking about?

02.23.18
© Kerri L. Stanley