Window with a view

My worn out feet have touched the ground and they have floated above it
Sometimes only my heels touch the ground, sometimes it’s the tip of my toes
Right now I feel like one of my feet is up in the air and the other one grounded tightly on the floor of this room
I’m stuck but free
I’m sinking but afloat

I’m so tired of these four white walls
I need to get out but I can’t
The walls are way too white and way too pristine
I want to explode so they would at least have my guts hanging on them
I need a window with a view that would set me free
That would give me the sense of hope of something bigger and better and fulfilling

Not too fulfilling, though – I need the hunger to survive
Without the hunger there’s no new words, new songs, no notebooks full of absurd pictures

Right now, my window with a view has a view of a city
The buildings, the pulse of a living, breathing monster that beats life into me
It claws its way into my poor heart that doesn’t know if to open up or not
If to pour out or not

The beating, it never ends


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