Meaning?

The fridge hums, a low steady hum like it's keeping a secret, like maybe it knows more than I do,

The light flickers again, no reason, just because it can, just because things blink in and out sometimes,

I think I left the oven on or maybe I didn’t, or maybe the whole idea of off and on is just a trick

The chair creaks, but I haven’t moved—why is it talking to me? Or am I just listening too closely today?

The rain’s coming, I can feel it, not in the air but somewhere deeper, like a memory that hasn't happened yet

Keys tapping, fingers moving, are these even my thoughts? Or just borrowed phrases from yesterday’s dream

The plant is leaning toward the window, always searching for the light like it knows something I don’t—

Why do I keep forgetting to water it? Or is it watering me, in some way I don’t notice?

That clock hasn’t worked in years but I keep it there, like a reminder that time doesn’t care if we notice it

There’s a shadow on the wall but no one’s there—could be a ghost or maybe just the way the sun bends when it’s tired

Voices outside, muffled, blurred, like they’re part of another world I’m not allowed into

My tea’s cold now, but I don’t mind, maybe it’s better that way, warm things always cool eventually

The book’s still open on the table, halfway through a page I’ll probably never finish

Does the story keep going even when I stop reading? Or does it pause, waiting for me to catch up?

Dust gathers slowly, like time, like silence, filling the spaces I forgot to care about

And here I am again, spinning thoughts into words that might not mean anything

But maybe meaning is overrated, maybe it’s just enough to let the thoughts flow, spill, wander . . .