The Frustrated Fetus

Thoughts collide into one another, crumbling on impact. They scramble to retain their dignity, picking up the pieces and forcing them into a nonsensical puzzle. The obscure image makes every room I frequent seem hazy. My heart projected onto the walls. They move with me, breathing my air, my deep heavy sighs. Drawing my sorrow in and exhaling my relief. Confining me to a dizzying house thats alive and dead all at once. Little does it know that within this womb grows an angry and cynical child. Observing from the windows, the life below. The selfish, stupid world. The world that knows no walls or boundaries. There is no alternative, I am a part of it all. Whether I choose to open the door or suffocate inside.

Spring

I have to squint my eyes to keep the sun at bay. The clearest, brightest star has finally emerged from the depths of it's darkest reverie. Nothing dares share the spotlight; faint white streaks are the only proof of clouds today. And below the bright blue sea of sky lays me, a girl on a hammock. I sit in a garden of dead sticks and twigs and brittle skeleton leaves covering patches of beige grass. Crisp cold air breathes life into my tired lungs, rejuvenating them with spring vigor. My voice newly inspired.

I have been hibernating too long. Breathing the same stale air beneath my cozy comforter. So deeply asleep and so comforted by the consistent warmth that I didn't dare move from the bed. The sun woke me. Its strange heat surpassed the quality of my blanket and my skin greeted the rays eagerly in the morning light. From my window I could see the snow dissipate first into brown and then into ground, taking deathly winter with it. And now, the wind stirs, waking the lifeless and seducing the birds into their native lands. Luring me out on tiptoe to kiss it.

And so, here I lay, blanket-less on a hammock beneath the cloudless blue sky, bathing in the changing of the seasons.