Occupied

I sat there,

Four walls and my thoughts

With a pen and a thousand sheets of paper

A thousand sheets to raise an army

A thousand sheets to sooth a heart

A thousand sheets to summarize or expound any matter of the mind

Delicate sheets, white sheets, blank and waiting to be stained

I could start anytime

Scribble a few words to make them rhyme

Like dime, chime, crime, lime

So easy... couldn’t it be?

Yet here I am

Waiting for it to happen

Waiting for that feeling to hit

Waiting for everything to flow

To take me to that place drifters go

Whether here nor there

Wandering and ever wondering

Lost in transit

Locked away in the mind

Yet as I sit here

Rattling my brain against its cage

Intent on steadying my concentration

For a brief moment the idleness

Soon finds me putting rhythm

To the constant dripping of a fixture nearby from a lack of vision

Until the pins and needles begin to take over

Stiff and achy as I clench my toes

Oh my toes… no, her toes…

I smile to myself.

Just then it hit,

Rapid and hard like a hundred bricks

Finally the idea, finally the concept, finally the model

The inspiration of something thrilling

Something daring

Something new and innovative at last comes to mind…

Until there is a sudden voice and knock at the door

“Hello? Anyone in there?”

And I respond.

“Yes! It’s occupied”