Winter Chill

The icy chill of winter brings me no joy. The sharp, biting wind, and the ominous grey clouds, come with a solemn forewarning of the darkness to come.

Not just the darkness of the sky, and the dreariness of the days, but the mist creeping over my mind like a bad thought that won't go away.

My breath in the air looks no different to the smoke curling away from the cigarette between my fingers, and my eyes search for colour in the bleak landscape. Upon finding none, I casually flick my cigarette butt over the hedge, and turn to go back indoors, leaving the dull, depressing scenery behind.

This winter is going to be a tough one. 

The Rain

So the rain comes, and the clouds set in to darken our days and dampen our spirits.

I can't help but feel unsure about what it is that I am supposed to be doing with myself and with my time.

The future seems endless, yet so full of nothingness that I don't even know where to begin to turn it into something worthwhile. People that I love are leaving my life so abruptly that I don't even have time to gather my feelings and say a silent farewell. 

Desperately trying to fill the void, I search for new people to colour my life, yet it is evident that most are not what I expect them to be, or who I want to spend my time with.

It seems to me that rather than taking shape, my life is crumpling in on itself and causing me confusion and doubt. 

I just need to explode with colour, to bloom inside, but I have not got the inspiration to do so.

Oh, how I wish I could fall in love again. 

Oh, how I wish I was loved.