the way my mind works

The broken rail on the starway blocks the path to the door
the lock bolted shut keeps the door closed
blocked from the inside, or blocked from getting in.
glass half full, or glass half empty?
Neither…
glass… is just there.

what does a glass of water have to do with my life?
or maybe, is it apple juice?
Cause then it would be really important.

Walking the crooked stairs I stumble.
reaching for the rail
-the rail that once was in my way-
is what I reach for, for safety.

I guess what once was an obsticle
can be what makes you stronger later.
but what if its rusty and cuts you
then you have to get a nasty tetnis shot?
atleast you’d get a snoopy bandaid.

the rail gives out and I fall to my knees
at the bottom of the stairs
hands pressed to the ground
head lowered
humbled.

I’ve been walking since I was a year old.
and all it takes is a few stairs to show me
how I can fail at the things I’ve been doing all my life.

I’ll take that glass of water now.
I’m parched.