Smear the lines of temporary beginnings
I’m unsure where to start
My journey goes on and on and on
but yet
I’m unsure where I start

My room contains two windows
but light only pours in through one

look down on everything intangible
"its a good thing you're pretty"

ones who love me don't know me
still unloved by those who do

if I could inject this feeling into my veins
rather than half-hearted attempts made in vain

waiting for its grip to take hold
on the other end of the phone

instead the buzzing silence
he asks me to hold

hold on, waiting
he hung up

I'm hung up

the boy sat in the grass
stars of old talked down to him
whispering into the night
"your existence is necessary"
palms pressing into the earth
he looked back up into the void and pleaded
"but is my purpose futile?"
a polite protest
the stars twinkled in response

You waste time soul searching for answers
But mine just craves meaning

the fire knows his place
warmly embraced by a cage nine circles deep
though yellow heat is tamed by a switch, fire's coals will keep
burning before a glass covered face