sitting still

For another minute I'll remember why I'm here, in the usual place. Then I'll forget. These are lapses of time I'll never get back... no matter how hard I try. But there is always the place I return to in the in-between moments of time. I somehow escape there without anyone knowing. I drive to a place inside that doesn't have paved roads. I've seen the wreckage of youth. It is scary. Who grows up with a perfect life? Who is wanted and who is saved? I've always wanted to know. Then again... there is the place again. It sits high up... as a steep window ledge. I sit and wait for the right time to tell her that she has to go now. Sometimes I don't like being aware of things. I don't like the world to know what's going on. Sometimes I'd like to fold over ... neatly, squarely... like a box taken down to the right foldable shape. Then again there are other shapes to inhabit. Other places to be. But this one place... will always be my escape into who I wish I could be.