Monday, November 1, 2010

I feel like a prisoner but I might just be a fetus.

I'm scared.
I live in a bubble.
I'm not content to stay here, oh no.
But I've gotten used to it, you see.

So when I leave to see the world
Will my lungs collapse?
Will by blood run thin?

I'm in here where I can't even experience the changing seasons
Or remember the months that go with them.
The world outside spins and changes
And all I hear are muffled noises.

No comments:

Post a Comment