6:30am

I do not want to look ahead or behind me; I want to look at the moment. I want to feed the hunger of now. My words and the words from last night's dream are speaking to me, and the storm, with its bolts of lightning and sound of thunder, is putting on a show that I may or may not remember.

I am just sitting here watching the sunrise. Even though it hurts from the burn, I notice a piece of heaven in my eyes. I do all I can to ease my troubled mind. I'm digging more deeply than before, not knowing what behind that door I will find.

I'm not too blind yet to notice that there are things that I must see to call the difference from my own created reality. Ah, so much at this hour sets me at ease and tells me you are last free.

The birds are out chirping, yet I'm the one who caged rattled. I've fallen many times, but I returned in the saddle.

It is early morning. I'm already going back to bed with all these words gone unsaid. what the hell am i drunk on if i had not yet had my first cup of coffee