It’s weird that one day we won’t exist. The things we wanted to try but were too scared to face end up as wasted contemplations. Our brains won’t tick anymore and our thoughts won’t wander. When I was 5 they told me to colour between the lines. They told me i wasn’t neat enough and the colours didn’t match. Stay between the lines they said, stay in line. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I want to colour outside the lines. I’m still a child inside; I’m still afraid and comfortable. And whenever I go to sleep I think how the ocean will always kiss the shore and the sun will always rise. But we won’t always rise with it. and so I wake at 4am with my eyes on the door and a map under my pillow. Because one day I’ll finally escape from myself and maybe you’ll come with me. I’ll write to my minds content and you’ll smile at me under the moonlight; my heart will melt. I can read your thoughts.
Once we leave, we’ll leave again, and after that we’ll never stop leaving
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