Thoughts like flocks of birds cloud my mind. I cower in the corner of my consciousness, my mantra keeping them at bay. Other times my brain’s as barren as a polar ice cap.
I try to squeeze the breath out of each thought.
Your window’s always open, but your door is always shut. You say you need a change, but you like your same old rut. You say you want your freedom, but your chains you will not cut.
I hope for the possibility and the ability to find some humility that would lead to tranquility.