I Express Myself Through Writing
I followed.
It’s white outside, blanketed by winter.
I see someone’s footprints, have passed me already,
heading somewhere, alone, vanished in the distance
Marked by a sharp depth of a curvy memory,
Someone has left behind, for me, to follow,
To become of their own crispy mind.
It’s breathing outside. So, I go, and I follow.
Seeing my breath, only cold magic can do,
Nice and warm inside my lungs vapor desire
To follow and see, whose steps belong to.
Anytime I breathe out, the distance gets closer
Braided by frozen eyelashes, anticipated by crystalized lips,
I manifest myself to outside, to the distance of its memory.
It’s still outside, timed by a clock of direction.
I’ve been following one of them, someone’s,
In an icy dress, companied by a white melody,
only snow can composed.
I plea to become mine, I followed to reach. So I did.
I followed the footprints, and I came to the destination,
melted by horizon, the line where perception meets the experience.
I looked back… And I saw them, the footprints.
They were mine.
I didn’t follow, I reached instead, the destination
I’ve chosen to become my path.
It’s warm outside, taken care of by the Sun.
I see someone’s footprints, have passed by already.
Another to follow, vanished in the distance, alone,
Someone has left behind, for me, to follow,
To become of their own mind.
It’s white outside, blanketed by winter.
I see someone’s footprints, have passed me already,
heading somewhere, alone, vanished in the distance
Marked by a sharp depth of a curvy memory,
Someone has left behind, for me, to follow,
To become of their own crispy mind.
It’s breathing outside. So, I go, and I follow.
Seeing my breath, only cold magic can do,
Nice and warm inside my lungs vapor desire
To follow and see, whose steps belong to.
Anytime I breathe out, the distance gets closer
Braided by frozen eyelashes, anticipated by crystalized lips,
I manifest myself to outside, to the distance of its memory.
It’s still outside, timed by a clock of direction.
I’ve been following one of them, someone’s,
In an icy dress, companied by a white melody,
only snow can composed.
I plea to become mine, I followed to reach. So I did.
I followed the footprints, and I came to the destination,
melted by horizon, the line where perception meets the experience.
I looked back… And I saw them, the footprints.
They were mine.
I didn’t follow, I reached instead, the destination
I’ve chosen to become my path.
It’s warm outside, taken care of by the Sun.
I see someone’s footprints, have passed by already.
Another to follow, vanished in the distance, alone,
Someone has left behind, for me, to follow,
To become of their own mind.
