Like the Arctic Circle, the four walls of my room have become the only world I know, and the words in my head are all I own. The rays of light through the window keep reminding me of time, yet it's like keeping records of my crimes.

I'm in a hurry to speak when I hear a sound. It's like being in the presence of one who listens. It's like opening a door. My emotions are set free, and my thoughts form words, yet it's only for a moment; it feels so lonely.

Everything seemed so new; it felt so cold. These were not the stories I was told. I think too much expression eludes me! My heart is jaded, the clouds I saw have faded, and it feels so lonely.
© Ddawnofpoetry7