Scattered Polaroids

By sp

Today is strange.
Not noticeably strange.
Actually, on the surface it's all perfectly average.
Maybe I should say I'm strange.
It's like there's too much in my head,
thoughts chasing thoughts, struggling to make themselves heard.
But every so often I catch myself staring out of the window,
and realise I'm thinking nothing at all.
Just, nothing. Just deafening silence and pure white emptiness.


Everything is too loud and too quiet.
I feel like I need to sleep,
but I also feel like I need to run and run and run.



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