Copies of photocopies hang on the wall.
My eyes fall on a tattered poster bleached by the sun.
Idly, I wonder if it felt the staples.
Paper snowflakes hang apologetically.
They shiver at the sputter of a nearby vent,
one just barely clinging,
spinning
spinning
spinning
I stare at the plate of gingerbread men
on the coffee table.
They stare back.
I walk to the bathroom with
the echo of my footsteps.
Echoes make terrible company.
As I wash my hands with
the saccharine choke of
pink passion soap
I gaze into the unsettling void
between mirrors when
you see what an infinity
of yourself looks like
The waiting room is still empty.
I let my eyes fall shut a second, or two.
The fan spins around in a visual reverb,
flashing and fading its repeating florescent fragments,
disappearing
I, with
it
John 3:20
He must increase, but I must decrease.
Galatians 5:24
And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.
Mark 8:35
For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it.
Philippians 1:21
For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
Comments