I exist here, in these small spaces set forth in the quiet. That perfect center at the eye of the storm where the air is still and calm. There could be houses blowing around me but that’s not important right now. Right here in this place, neither here nor there, I exist as a refractor of light. From every angle, a different version of myself. 

A brief sabbatical from sanity in this place where possibilities are momentary and interchangeable. This place that’s not really a place but a time. These little moments when the world falls away and a sickly sweet cloud envelops my head. 

This girl, she can be bold and meek, talented and wayward, loved and loveless. She’s everything to me and nothing to all the world. Her shadow casts over me constantly and yet falls behind me. I’ve evolved to step into her shoes, but she just keeps growing. By the time I’ve found my way, she’s two times my size.

The girl in the eye of the storm, finally at peace but always, always yearning. She’ll never be tangible but she’ll never be more real.