After saving a quarter for the runs,
an imprinted wall painting with actual words
awaited during my time of release.
Quickly I finished the routine of a bathroom
etiquette. Cleaning, using, cleaning self, cleaning.
I prepare for my time of runs to be over and
to open a door of constant mundane movement. But,
I remember to return to the writing, and perform my reading.
A line that may have been skipped and
never nodded or applauded to by the person in the runs.
I beam my mouth, staring sideways at my reflection.
Knowing the struggle, my tone pigment matching the flooring’s
wood. Remembering the line with my struggles,
side by side with my struggles. Forming the unity
the quote acclaims.
Remembering that acceptance letter
within the mundane movement, may
deny my part in a creative world, where the
creative world only allows one at a time,
like this singular bathroom. Not allowing
stalls for unity to applaud this quote.
The line made me realize the unity of my own with others. With
those on the outside not looking in, otherwise that would be
inappropriate. I hope others will take time to read the wall, instead of
letting it be just a writing on the wall.
Even if the lines were painted in white and not brown chocolate
Like my skin.