floating from room to room
my feet never feeling the floor
i sway amidst the others,
standing unknown

sitting by the window, i am a witness to many things
the spirit of the wind rustling the leaves,
then disappearing into the sky,
the sky, so immense and ever changing
always remains in sight
above the heads of passerby pedestrians
they pay no mind
to the beauties of this world
as they walk by.
these passerbyers have their own life,
they are fueled by what appears from their own eyes
they can't see the one
who is fueled by the sight
by the window seat

the sky, grey and condescending
brings the reminder of the non-stop grandfather clock
cased in old oak with its frontward face
wise with history
these days go by as i sit and rot
in self inflicted solitary confinement
overwhelmed and stuck
behind an open window
watching through as the sun and moon
rotate without knowledge
of my internal afflictions

Am I overreacting?
Is something not wrong and I just don’t deserve the effort he gives?
I gave him a sliver of my heart,
Should I have given him the whole thing?

I am alone in these woods
Its silent when trees fall
They were not meant to last
Blocking the path, it is unfamiliar now
I will remain stuck as I have been

As the sun rises from its golden slumbers
The moon decides to rest
The tides reach for what once was there
But now are filled with light
Lifting out of the haze of sleep
The bugs birds and beings bask in their life
Loving dreaming feeling
Breaking burning crumbling
All under the blues of the skies
So beautiful is the extent of the horizon line.

Soft green moss underneath my toes accompanied by
The bittersweet breeze of march air and its wind rushing through your bones
The garden is lovely and full of newly blossomed flowers
Ivy hikes up the brick siding of the house
It is a striking emerald,
But it is little compared to the color of your eyes