Wolfy Chai

I create art with my eyes.

Colors catch like sunlight shimmering through thick, syrupy honey 

I create art with my ears,

Hear the songs that penetrate deep into my bones.

I watch the world from my porch.

White columns. Three steps leading down.

Cars that stop at the quiet intersection. Children that cross at the crosswalk. Birds that frolic in the hedges.

Day in and day out the light comes and goes. 

Sounds remain close, cutting through the silence like knives jutting through my back. 

But no more can I remove the pain inflicted. 

I just sit. 

Sit. Staring into the abyss. 

My eyes wander, but never see. 

I observe.,

I witness. 

I obey the cues of the light, unable to resist it. 

My dreams implode as my imagination begins to dry up. 

I lose track of the vision I used to have. 

Plundered by expectations, static by design, helpless by circumstance. 

I start forgetting what the world looked like beyond those three steps.