I came home late some nights watching late night television, the music still playing through my headphones swaying from the back of my chair. No time to dream when things are happening somewhere I am not. No time to wait for sleep to keep me down I look around for inspiration to leave this all behind.

The books stacked in my closet, me waiting to a purpose, no time for reading because I have things that need saying. Words may come to me when I least expect them.

I came home wanting to dream but my dreams keep me from sleeping. My doubt brings me down until I am staring at nothing. Blank walls, blank pages, blank screens with no story told. I’m wanting to be anywhere but how I get there from here?

No time for dreams when my dreams keep me from sleeping. I want so much but I keep myself from believing that anything is possible.

I came home from a distance, a bus ride from west of Memphis. Across the country I went leaving all I knew behind me. I left all I had out there.

I came home not expecting anything but hopeful for something more than what I’ve experienced. I came home damaged. I came home in search of saving. I came home wanting a difference. I came home still dreaming…

Categories: writing

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