There you go again.
Off to the "real world,"
While I sit on a windowsill.
You feel sunlight against your skin,
Each ray kissing your skin bronze,
Fresh air wrapping around you.
The only light I feel is fluorescent,
I get bleached by lightbulbs,
The air conditioner shoves air at me.
It isn't fair.
Everything I've always wanted,
You shove in my face with a smirk.
I want to overdose on fresh air,
My skin to glow and tan,
To run wildly through the grass.
I'm tired of sitting here in despair,
Sick of withering into dust,
While you're wild and free.
When will it be my turn?
To be released,
While you sit still,
On this dreaded windowsill.
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