longing.
most of the time
i usually find myself
daydreaming about where I want to be
which is anywhere instead of here.
i do not want to live in a place
where the sun shines down on my every day
mocking me
and the glass windows shine with agony
and my skin feels like it is on fire.
i want to live in a place
where I can dig my toes into the snow
and use my hands as knives to slice through the fog
and smile
and look up at the beautiful trees
swimming through the thick air
i do not want to live here
i want to go away.
YOU ARE READING
untitled.
PoezjaStars and painted candlelights are the only things that bother to keep me sane, these days. But it's okay. I know you're trying. (My first posted poetry collection)
