Thoughts hunted me down like unpaid debts,
so I fled the room to steal some air.
The sky split into a cloud-town,
dim stars flaring—ideas going off.
Headset on, music stitched my pulse.
Across me, an old man with a silver-ringed ear
let his smile peel off years—
time caught off guard, a child’s blush returned.
I walked the roads fishing for mystery,
found relief in a boy gripping his mother’s hand,
leaping—owing nothing to tomorrow.
I couldn’t cross that light;
the past hung on me like dead weight.
The weather turned on a dime—
clouds wrung themselves dry.
I ducked into tea, killing time,
watching two dogs drum joy into the street,
their rhythm calming my inner storm,
while humans played judge and God.
Nothing mattered then but now—
being a child still learning the steps.
Rain and shared cream were enough,
until nature drew a curtain of rain
to hide
mine.
