Krona

I started writing some bullshit
about how I feel like I'm standing in the middle of nowhere
where everything is covered in snow
and there is nothing to be seen or heard
and how every time I take a step forward the wind blows away my footprints
and I lose myself again.
(I can't recall where I came from
and I don't know where I'm going.)

But then I remembered that I ordered an iPhone
and what little hope I had left for myself and how special I am is just drained
dripping out of me in the shape of little beams of sweat
and I think to myself that my body is ringing the alarm
telling me to run, run, run, run
RUN BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.
But little does my body know
it is already too late
and there is no going back
because I'll have that thing dropped in the mail in four weeks
so I can join in on modern happiness
and share with the world my everyday meals.

But what does the world share when they don't eat?
When the appetite is gone as well as their sleep
and the smile on their lips and hope in their eyes
and love in their heart and warmth in their soul.
When all that's left is cold
and even five sweaters knitted by grandma don't protect you enough from freezing within.

I'm dying to know
and I'm dying to eat
and I'm dying to sleep
and I'm dying to smile
and I'm dying to love.
But it's just cold
and I'm just dying.