I sit quietly in my stead, unsettled.
How unsettling; of how this thought is unsettled as well.
Continuing to ponder.
The mattress below me, soft and warming.
The specks of noise, louder with every listen.
Unmatched; tossing and turning in my sheets.
Silence becomes louder.
Unsure of the things that surround me.
Unaware of touch; feel.
I reel back, sitting quietly as the pictures that portray all become visible as before.
Left with this unsettling thought once more.
YOU ARE READING
Little Things
PoetryThe little things in life; seen in the bigger picture. Journey with me as I question the vast universe. Random things I decided to write about All writings are originally mine.
