sometimes i seek the quiet
the spaces in my head
that are walled off from the world
hidden rooms of contemplation
that get lost in the noise
that disappear in anxiety

but
they are still there
waiting for me to find them
waiting for me to run in
that i might close the door
and lie upon the floor
to stare at the ceiling
and think
of nothing

these are the rare moments
when i can softly remember
my capacity to carry the weight
grows in the silence