Sunday, March 28, 2010
By: Katie M. Moss
The warmth sustains me in my dark, lightless chamber.
The rays slide effortlessly through the bars of the window--
Leading me, begging me, to come outside.
I smell flowers, and spring, and heaven‘s dew upon grass.
I open my eyes, and see the four posts of my own bed.
The birds sound the same, in this still room of mine.
The flowers still flowers, and vines--
--wrap around the posts of my bed.
I wish I were dead.
How I wish I were dead.
For but to live, as happy as this--
Is quite surely bliss--my soul’s own new bliss.
From one little kiss.