I’m sitting here watching the sunrise, which I haven’t in a long time.
But there was no beauty in this sunrise. I only feel like hope was being taken from me. It was like a large blow to my chest, and I can’t breathe as these streams of light slowly form the bars that I’m being put behind.
This clarity is frightening, and I don’t know what to do about it.
I want to leave. But wherever I go the sun will still rise.
Return the darkness to me. Hide these bars. And take me as well.
What is true of us?
That of summer days,
or that when the cold winter dawns.
Swinging between ends
But always longing for the other.
Who are we to crave.
To crave only what we can’t reach,
Only that outside the cup of our palms.
To crave the attention of the moon and the stars.
Bag for my aunt (matching prints with her daughters).
Bags and a pencil case for my other girly cousins.
New stuff in my room :D thanks dad.
I asked my mother today,
“Are problems getting larger,
Or am I just knowing too much?”
Some days I wish I could
Stay the fool that I was,
When I was still in a cot.
The cot that seemed big to me at the time.
Huge, in fact.
Huge enough for me to laugh, and breathe.
Huge enough for me to reach, but not feel the four walls that lock me in.
Because you don’t feel trapped when you don’t know you are.
And what you have is enough for what you know.
My realisation has grown. Perhaps too much,
In that same cot.
Any way I turn brings me to face
The four walls that surround me.
Right to the tip of my nose.
There is no longer room.
Neither is there air enough for me to breathe
Everyday is a waiting game for
Another bruise to ache,
Another tragedy to watch.
Knowing brings feelings.
And pain hurts more when you anticipate.