I was the light on the lamp on the floor.
does this make sense to you,
that I am very quietly breaking by the second
and that life is pushing me off the edge into this deep valley
which I might gladly take my place in.
if only it could make up its mind
and stop calling me back every time and again
to fulfill my earthly duties of
school, and work.
Ask me what my favourite colour is,
what I daydream about every moment of the day,
why Christmas is possibly my favourite time of the year,
and why despite it all I still choose to believe that
there is a light that never goes out.
(does this make sense to you.)