Thousands of bells chimed overhead
Their lovely tone shaping my thoughts
Splendid new lands danced in my sight
But with ten thousand bells as my guide
I would never be lost

Thousands of bells chimed from afar
Distant, soft, and gentle they seemed
Thousands of steps stretched between us
But with ten thousand bells at my side
I would never be lost

The steps grew larger, the land less great
My eyes more tired, my path less straight
The bells kept ringing, farther away
Too many to count, their sound now gray

They fall on deaf ears, heart turned aside
Waiting for someone, arms open wide
I have become lost, my own mistake
I went far from them, no path to take

Forever the bells will be gone
I do not know where to find them
For I thought not of their light
And I heard not what they sang
When the ten thousand bells rang

She was sat, fixed, focused
Headphones in and a world out
The roar of the bus in the background
I sit here, listening to the kids smile and laugh with eachother
Happy to be living
I wonder what she is thinking about
If she understands the world like I do
I wonder if her mind is tired
Like mine is
Maybe if i said something to her
She would understand how i view the world in pigment
As I would understand, that her world
Is still in black and white

I walk on black crunchy sponge
barefoot, blank-minded, bedraggled

my backdrop is violent grey, green,
then white white white

wind whips my cheeks
then calms itself, calms me

I miss my sunshine on days like this
when the weather is rough

I appreciate it the most

I hear the motor humming in the background

I hear the chirps from the morning birds, and even they don't sound enthusiastic about the time of day

I can hear your mom scratching bug bites on her arm. She scratches, digs, and scrapes, as if she is expecting to find something.

Bottles of sweet tea sit rattling next to me, clanking with each bump in the road, with each jump of my heart.

I hear brakes screeching to a slow stop, with a desperateness that reminds me of my darkest moments, my cries that no one witnessed, the tears that fell without acknowledgement.

The sun has yet to warm the world this morning, but it still casts its light on my arms, making my sunburn tingle but reminding me I'm alive

I can smell your great grandmother's perfume from when she hugged me so tight, reminding me of a family I never had.

I can smell the ocean, feel the grit of sand in the car. No matter how hard you try, we all take a bit of the beach home with us. It's salty waters one day blend with our salty tears.

But all I care to hear
Are your sweet shallow yawns and breathing. As long as you're breathing that's always all I need.

I think I could very well tackle anything if I knew all the time that you were alive, content, and happy.

I feel the need to give you an apology, for what I truly do not know. But whatever it is, I am genuinely sorry. Please, never let yourself go. Learn to love yourself as I love you.

Outside the window
the south wind goes slow,
caressing young leaves on trees.
Look at those sparkling fresh leaves!

They seem to wave hi
to a butterfly
fluttering freely around,
wings beating without a sound.

Little birds chirp bright
under the sunlight,
on top of the cars zooming
by-a symphonic humming.

On the opposite
a tall building sits,
with windows staring like eyes;
walls in cream and polished nice.

Enjoying the last sunset's fading glow,
I stood still, gazing out of my window.

Pinks, purples and blues;
A bubblegum daydream;

Warm breeze wrapping around;
A gentle hug for a slow beating heart.

Incandescence a faint memory,
A gentle hum in place.

The smell of freshly new ironed clothes.
The inhale of perfume; enveloping and a long exhale escapes lips.

The sweet sound of birdsong and the calm that nature brings is easily rivalled by you darling,

I am home.

I am sitting in my morning chair, drinking my morning tea, and I look out of the window.

I can appreciate a pale pink winter's morning - the delicate allure of pastel hues peeking through naked twigs of birch and oak drenched in dew.

I can appreciate the brisk and quick tail flicks of a fox in the cool mist, partaking in nature's scene alongside the robins and finches which twitter and sing.

I can appreciate an empty sky, wet with the steam of breath and the peace of air, left behind by the clouds of chatter and chaos from the exhaust of the day gone.

But what I appreciate most is that I am sitting in my morning chair, drinking my morning tea, and though this is a charming scene , there is a window pane between it and the comfort of me.