Laying on nature’s floor, breathing in fresh air, feeling the pollinated breeze over my face, being next to the green plants and trees, accompanied by bugs and bees
Letting time pass by, fast or slow, with the fluctuating clouds above
I don’t care.
This is my meaning of life.
Tonight I turn to the stars, faceless,
Turn into night clouds, grey and transparent, rolling over the skies like a mystic.
Tonight I stand atop the hill, slouched like an empty bowl, alone and crazy
like a silent maniac
While thunderstorms cut across
And the grey seas snatch with temper
Angry at me
While I stand mute
Wordless, thoughtless, and unable to make sense
As the world tumbles over and the end nears
Awaiting an answer
From a faceless, coreless, puff of air.
Don’t torture me with pleasant morning air seeping through my bedroom window
I’m lying here under covers crying about my hometown, family, old friends, people, everyone, and everything that I miss
They say you should “appreciate the finer things in life” like “enjoy the annoying company of people around you” or “don’t look at your phone while walking– look at the marvelous hoard of strangers in front of you” or “don’t put your headphones on when you’re outside, you should appreciate the beautiful screaming of people.” They say, “Don’t avoid people” but then again,
I see him coming through the revolving door with the familiar face of a lover, and like catching a whiff of fresh air,
I drop every worthless thing that I’m doing, and breathe.