Somewhere Between You and Oblivion

Wake up.

Shower.

Get dressed.

Self-examine.

Hair, face, clothes, shoes.

Well enough?

For them?

For you?

Why does an object slightly out of place make you feel lost?

Two extra steps to the left of your night stand to grab your wallet or purse, and suddenly you forget your keys.

Routine.

They see you. You see them. Then suddenly they don't see you. You don't see them.

Somewhere between you and oblivion.

Limbo.

When you escape the confines of ill-established emotion, are you lost or are you found?

Tumbleweed crossing a deserted road.

Fumbling and stumbling up and down.

Floating along only to awaken with the sensation of pinpricks along your sleeping arms.

They don't go away.

They serve as a reminder.

A reminder that your pillow is the closest thing you have at night.

The only thing there in the morning.

Repeat.

But then maybe...