Very Well Then

The thoughts,
they come like fireflies--
Lighting up
Then blinking out
Just when I think they've landed in my palm.
And, that hand is outstretched
Waiting for
any kind of gift
That tells me I belong inside
These four walls.
And thoughts--
They scream;
Like darts they fly,
Pinned into the cushions of my room.
Embedded--
Waiting for me to find them
And keep their lights lit for good.