Quicksand

Everyone moves on, while I’m standing here.
Maybe I’m in quicksand, that’s too lazy to do its job right.
So I can just watch the world turn, while everybody else gets what they want.
And nothing changes here.

For me.

Feeling a chill in the air, hearing the softening decay of a viola in the distance. Aching for the quicksand to pull me under.

Or let me go.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s