socall me wren

I never know if I want to walk out the door. It opens and closes
as I stare at it. Same with the window. Sometimes I stop and feel
the cold breeze splash my face. It leaves me, taking away that
breath I was saving for something else. Something less important.
I turn my back to walk down the stairs, my tongue finding a tear
drop on my lips. The air took my fear and left me open. Open to
my ego. Open to my shame. I close my eyes again and see darkness.
See peace. See balance.