ins and outs

No ins and no outs.
Just your eyes
and a pocketful of doubt.
 
We can no longer tell when to close the door,
with shards of light burning through floorboards,
And a spiking  desire to jump down.
 
To fly up.
To see it all from above.
Fields of tulips.
A blanket of yellow
and a brain left hollow,
she is running through the dark.
 
I have nobody to write about.
No ins and no outs.
Just your eyes,
and I,
shouting into the abyss.
For someone to come forward
whom I could sculpt with ink.
Paint with words
and leave to dry on the kitchen sink.
 
A field of yellow, 
a brain of hollow,
 nobody to follow,
to find my light of the mind.
All I can see is a charcoal sky
between creaking floorboards.
 
I’ve been stood here for years
With a hammer in hand
The light is so bright it blinds
And my feet have never touched the ground