the days have been silent
the nights grown longer
the mornings are murk
the afternoon sears
as days are as dragging as nights
out the window the colors are dull
but in this room no color appears
and in these thoughts are cages
the rooms sound way better than
where am i now
my own consciousness hinders me
my own consciousness hinders me
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 1:43 PM UTC
the days have been silent
the nights grown longer
the mornings are murk
the afternoon sears
as days are as dragging as nights
out the window the colors are dull
but in this room no color appears
and in these thoughts are cages
the rooms sound way better than
where am i now
my own consciousness hinders me
my own consciousness hinders me
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