This scene is not mine.
Don’t ask me whose it is, I just wandered through.
My life is elsewhere, but don’t ask me that either.
If you find it, let me know.
I’ve been looking awhile.
My aesthetic is rainy days and dark roads.
Fresh, rain-churned mud and speckles of water on glasses.
Music whose notes and words are engraved on your soul.
The patter of rain on glass; window and windshield.
A heart made of tangled knots and too many nots.
A soul pierced by a spike of its own design.
Weary eyes, tired bones, and joints that predict the weather.
Soft smiles, gentle kindness, and world-weary wisdom.
Don’t ask me who I am, there’s no answer to that.
If answers are all you seek, maybe your path lies elsewhere.
All I have are questions.
I will share those, if you want.
Please don’t go, though.
I don’t know where I’m going but I’d like to not be alone.
Maybe, if we stick together you’ll find your answers.
I’d like to know when I’ve got enough questions.