like sand through the hour glass, so are the days of our lifes

[simonsayssuckit]

wrapped in the safety of sleep
the warmth of amber mood lighting
and a clock that not even i can read
little black nusaince at the end of my bed
my lifes savings spread across the floor
looking out my window and the blinking stars
i overheat easily
im always cold
and im short
i roll off the egde of my bed
wishing i had more rythme
and plush carpeting in my apartment