Is it the sun that I'm seeing?
Or is it just the flickering light bulb hanging from my ceiling?
For some, this is the beginning of the day
For some, this is the end.
For me, all I can hear is the ticking sound of the second hand.
Seconds feel like hours and hours, seconds.
I hear the rain drizzling along the window, composing melodies as it goes.
Except that there's only the leaky sink and empty walls.
They dance around the corner of my eyes, pretending that they're not shadows.
But I am no fool.
The floor, it's velvet.
Its soft hands embrace my soul everytime I take a step.
I smile as I look back and see my ****** footprints.
He says it's time for bed.
But I don't ever really sleep, do I?
Not in this house.
For my eyes have already found refuge in the walls.