While the roof sings to the tune of the monsoon keys, the leaves outside dance with the storm’s cold breeze, with a warm, fresh cup of coffee, my eyes stare blankly at the road void of wheels and feet— empty— wishing I can say the same with my mind.
The antonym of empty is full yet my thoughts are spilling and brimming a gusty storm of fear, uncertainty.
Today, a rejection letter opened the can of insecurity I thought I have kept locked tightly.
Perhaps, I’ll let the fog sits comfortably on the glass window, and inside my troubled mind.