Do people think of anything when they stare out of these windows?
Or do they just stare blankly?
Their minds lost
In the vastness of the space in front of them
The membrane of the empty crevices of their mind
Pouring out
Seeping into every detailed confinement
The space between the branches
The atmosphere above the calm waters
Their eyes giving way to something beyond their own reflection
A familiar face
Replaced by one long forgotten
Does the road that stretch ahead
Remind them of a past they had to leave behind
Or promise them of a future yet to come
Does the rapid blur of color and motion
Turn into white noise
A distracting constant
Attempting to block out
The feelings that reveal themselves
When there is nothing else to busy the mind with
Do they try to fight back tears of a dear memory turned bitter with time
Or do they delude themselves into appreciating the beauty
That lies with each passing turn
When in reality
It is our of reach
Behind a glass window
Distancing away with the coming second
Something tangible and yet not
A beauty no one can comprehend
One looks
But what else is there to that
Than to look?
And to pretend to feel what you don't feel anymore
Fighting back the familiar feelings that have turned against you
Pretending that this is home
When you have traded keys a long time ago.
- from yesterday
