Outside

/This is just random poetry that I wrote in a time when I was a bit lost./

It's always so pretty
From the outside
Where I can't feel or see
What's lurking inside

It's always so pretty
So far away
Where the cold can't reach me
Or maybe I'm too cold anyway

It's always so pretty
So dark around me
Blinds to all things ugly
Dead to all things lively

It's always so pretty
But only for a select few
I'm already dead to you
So why can't I leave already?