looking out an open door
a dying tree and black railing
not much of an interesting view
a mere cloud covers the sky
it's going to be one cold winter
a breeze flows through
hitting the bottom of my bare feet
slowly my whole body begins to freeze
will all my days be this easy
music blaring, a kitchen filled with a delicious aroma
sola
the avoidance of concrete work
guilt spreads throughout my mind
"but there's nothing wrong with being selfish, right?"
images floating through the film strip I call my life
I'd like to write in the sand
Someone rescue me, from this happy place of content
I need danger
Something to scare me out of my snake like skin
Something to entice me and give back the fire to my eyes
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