i can hear the stop and start of the garbage truck out side
heavy and tired gears
its cold out
theres still mist on my windows
woke up tired and warm under my covers
sometimes thats the prettiest world to exist in
alone and covered by the dust of your dreams
the warmth of rest
if you can find rest
the outside world is changing colours
becoming bare and scarce under the winter sun
the light has changed, burning bright and harsh
deep shadows
inside i’m changing
i’m worried about how much