My thoughts are like tangled yarn.
I try to sort through them.
It's quite useless.
So much waiting to be said,
the pressure builds in my lungs.
Forced exhales, whispers to no one.
You don't exist if you aren't seen.
I dwell in this twilight. This haze.
In this dusk, I shall wait until the Morning shines.
How long have I been here?
Warmth. Sweet kisses of daylight, how long has it been?
Perhaps someday the Sun will come.
Open, my heart.
You are the beacon.