“we sit in empty rooms –
consumed with the next thought,
surreptitiously interjected into our uneventful lives.
searching for value and justification,
we scan through the abyss of suppose,
anticipating relevance –
some semblance of self-value.
and when we find nothing notable,
we resort back to our misery –
wrap ourselves up in the familiarity of alone.”
standing too close to the edge 