what’s the weather like inside you?
are you cool
a mint tree after being flooded in a rainstorm.
are your limbs soaking up the flavour and the calm?
an archipelago spread across you
years and years ago
you’ve been trying to escape, sailing from one island to another
each are the same
just as windswept and lost.
do your toes burn on the thoughts you tread
is the sand getting in your eyes
your mind is an open space and somehow,
somehow it fills you full of frustration.
a sandstorm hits and now all you are
a weight sits at the bottom of your lungs
and no breath is deep enough to blow it away
perhaps water will force it
so you drink a river and drown.
spaces in the real world are hard to fill with attention
so you hope meanwhile exists
do you live there – in the meanwhiles?
in your head, where are you now?
I know a blank mind doesn’t exist.