I’m out of places to keep looking. When something goes missing you have to either find it, find a way to replace it, or find a way live without it.

When we are, as moments lend, stuck between an eclipse of fate and a drastic undertaking – when we are, as time can lend, the edge of blurred reason and the beginning steps of love stung simplicity. When we are here, then where is here. Where can here become. Where can here be found.

In bravery, we collide, combine, consume. In stations we sit motionless and still and perfectly spotless as our corrections are made, our grades are given. When do we, in bravery or sickness, in sadness and perfection, when do we become a compliment? 

There’s traces of memories laid out between these things. Between these things we’ve saved and lost. Temped waters with our toes hung over the edge dipping into pools we know we are not quite certain of just yet. Just testing. Just finding our way through the maze and up to the other side where the light is shining and there are answers to questions you never thought to ask.

The funny thing about mazes though, is that you’re never really lost. And if you place your hand on any wall and refuse to move it, refuse to stop contact with it and just take every step forward you can, eventually, you’ll make it out, regardless of size. Regardless of the fear or the daunting pressing panic you may feel.

You just need to keep your hand there.