The snow falls quietly outside the windows.
We can watch it’s purity with envy;
We can wish to be childish and naive
Your warm breath fogs the glass before your face,
making it harder for you to see outside.
We sit silently inside this decaying house;
With each moment it slowly caves in.
And we do not look above us,
We do not want to register our ending.
So we sit and look out,
We try to see,
we try to see.
But we cannot.
The windows engulfed by the fog of our impurities
Blanketing the wall with flaws.
I wish to be what you crave,
I wish to be more than your not.
Crave, darling, crave the darkness.
Yearn for the coldness, yearn for it all.
And I feel so old with the weight on my shoulders
The creak of the lives I have not lived
My eyes are slowly closing.
I can feel my vision fading
I want to be pure, and young.
I want to be a child.
Let me be a child.