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I live on a page
Fenced in by margins
Words tell my story
Small black characters
In rows and columns
Dark print text reflects
How I feel today
Journal, Diary
Each word is a vessel
That contains substance
An essence a message
However meaning,
Is not just Straight Edge
The line may be skewed
Perfect crookedness
All night I wander
From room to room
Desk to bed to floor
Roll from belly to back
Eyes close, open, and blink
But still I could not think
With chaos comes calm
Clarity is found
I see blighted air
Or is it Dust that roams?
Particles of fine powder
Hover over the vessels
It's a fog that shrouds
The ships sail the pale sea