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All of those lines...

Way underneath

There’s no space, no air for them to be found

So, they must settle

And quiver around

Waiting for someone to let them out

A line

But not all that it seems

A line

But something that should be placed way up high

Because it’s more than just that

If it’s your reality...

A reality that you choose to make your own

And ultimately your home


It’s whatever you want it to be

Parallel lines don’t have to meet

And so these words never will end

They’ll continue on

Perhaps not on paper

But somewhere in the heart, somewhere in the soul

Stored far far away

-- one day passes --

It continued to walk on its last few strands

As she ruminated over a picture containing a thousand memories

Of what seemed like paradise only a couple of weeks ago

But what now resulted in her struggling to breathe and remain in the light

It was hard for her, and she struggled to come to terms with her current reality

She could also feel the potential drops of water flush out from the sides of her eyes like a river

But she held back

Accepting that it is what it is

-- sips a glass of wine --

Who am I?

Who is she and what can I tell her? so that her journey can continue on the line that may never end

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