Be still (with me)

I feel different, in that everything I do is the same
though the world constantly shifts, tilts, and dangles
like a fiend sporting a sinful fabric
we are all tempted to touch-
shadows try to chase the center of the earth,
out of breath in hopes to be sustained
by one that will write oxygen back
into their lungs;
they roam and roam and sprint
and never rest in wheat fields
though the sun beats their exposed
backs-
they are transitioning,
yet I, don't move.

And my eyes, never quite
reaching their target,
wait to be seen.

-
Written 6/10/14 @ 12:29 AM