to the tired mind...

Lie in wake of what was, the thoughts of a day not gone. To the end, it was bittersweet, though the clear is far. The scents swinging above my head like a guillotine waiting for the switch. Clouded judgments, close calls, and hard falls; it’s still arduous letting go. Facades are a shield against inner thoughts. Imaginary lines are drawn in the sand of my mind…”what if I had crossed?” Ferociously unending…unrelenting interrogations. A high stakes hostage situation with my mind as the detainee. Held at thought-point, a power struggle of wits ensues. Head versus heart…a classically epic battle of the times. The reflections of our shoes are not what they were; fatigued in all the wrong spots as if endured by someone else. Captivated by the now that is not at all the vin-diagram perception of self from days past. The reputation precedes the corporeal existence of me. Searching for a place to rest my head in a land cognizant to few. “Your confidence is the tree you retreat behind,” echoes the weary soul to the tired mind.