gray zone

waves of feeling 
crashing on a notebook page shore
the ink bleeding through the paper 
but of what i'm writing
even i am unsure 
graphite pushed too hard 
and now paper is torn 
but onwards i carry my hand
letters appearing in a font like spaghetti and kids
messy 
I toss it aside 
for five months elder me 
to find 
and continue 
in a different pen ink
with new thoughts
and a mind full of fresh ideas
the rhythmic feeling 
of fingers forming letters
brings a bit of peace to my mind 
as i lean into the lull
of self recognition 
and understanding all of the above
sometimes it feels like life is a combination
of being to shy 
to step into the light
and just waiting for darkness to swallow me up
stuck in the gray zone of time.