The Ceiling

Hello there ceiling?

How’s it going?

I’m fine thank you.

How about you?

Just as great as always

I wonder,

with your luminescent white paint

you stare down at me through the infinite blue of the skies.

All knowing and all powerful

always above me

silent.

Grotesque.

Beautiful.

What’s going on in your head?

Mysterious and cosmic.

Still.

What am I to do?

I don’t know where I’m going.

Do I do this or do I do that?

It seems to me you know everything,

don’t you?

You’ve been there since I was born.

My first steps.

You’ve seen me fall down and rise up.

Lie, cheat and what not.

Yet you say nothing.

You’ve seen my parents argue.

Throw fists at my kin.

Seen robbers walk away with computers.

And yet you say nothing.

Silent.

Unmoving.

Are you there mocking me?

Looking down blankly.

The silence rings in my ears.

I hear my own voice.

You wrap it in your silence.

It echoes in the darkness.

A glimmer of light pierces through the shadows.

I move forward and open the door.

The ceiling stares down upon an empty house.