The Sinful Heart

When the sun is out, the lines are crisp.
     They stand out on the side walk for everyone to see.

But as the sun goes behind a cloud, the lines fade.

     The crisp line that seemed so pure, rigid is blurred.

The line is gone.
     There is no distinction.

When the sun hides, all lines turn to gray.

I sit in the shade.
     Sun does not come my way.

I see the line I must cross,
     But the how is unknown.
I will sit till the lines fade,

     And I crawl on my knees to where in line once was.

Will I be too late?
     Will my heart allow my mind to forgive?

My movements should be quick, in the now, saying,
      "Don't wait until it is too late."
But my heart is slow and lingers.
     What's one more day?
     One more time?
So I sit. wondering. soul searching. despising
     myself and my lack of motivation.

Is this the end?
     Can I call it quits?
Or simply a variation of my genesis?

Why Use One Strainer When You Can Use Three

There are many thoughts that run through my head. They begin broad, but as I contemplate, they go through a series of strainers.

The first strainer has large holes that catch the thoughts that are unnecessary.

The second has slightly smaller holes that take out the things that may be related, but do not cohesively fit anywhere.

And the third is my final product. 

Granted there is more to my thoughts than a simple draining system, but that is where I start, go and finish. I am at several faucets racing toward my first strainer. I have several thoughts that I would like to put in words, but due to the lack of time and energy, I cannot focus in on one topic.

Once life slows down, I will write more. But when was the last time life stopped for water to run through a strainer?

House for Sale

My mind constantly wanders on tangents and side notes. The battle between my conscience and spoken words will last forever. Before, I kept my thoughts indoors. I hid my inability to maintain a mentally focused conversation behind closed curtains, hoping the curb appeal would disguise my racing thoughts. But it was from my hiding that I realized a new problem: when can I express my mental tangents? I cannot lurk in the dark halls of my inner-thoughts. I need an exit. But where?

Here.

Welcome to my mind. Not everything written will be understood. But for my sake, they need to be said. I will stand in my front lawn and verbalize the thoughts I have kept inside, hidden from public view. It is time I called a Realtor.