• mirror 46w


    hazy when it rains
    i look out of a window
    stretching my palms towards freedom
    that there is more to this world
    while a subdued part of me wonders
    what more can i ever see
    through the only window i am allowed to keep

    fuzzy when it's cold
    my window is frosted
    with facades and faint cries
    of everything that is
    protecting me from what lives
    outside my room
    that my crutches cannot distinguish
    with two clicks on the ground
    on the other side of the only window
    i am allowed to keep

    bright in summer, i feel heat
    i try to look outside but my eyes betray me
    as i fail to make sense of the beauty
    that i've only drawn in pictures
    that are now paper planes, flying
    i scratch the window, try to break through
    for myself
    a view
    that is for once not adulterated
    with the descriptions
    from the eyes of everyone else
    who's been luckier than me
    to see the world, unfiltered
    but what view do i see
    when my eyes physically prevent me
    from distinguishing between
    sky blue and tree green
    as i sit behind a dead black screen
    realising, that to me, the world shall always look alike,
    through whatever window i'm allowed to keep.


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