Still. Motionless.
She sat there upon the windowsill
And pulled the yellow drapes
She wonders of her purpose still
And wishes to escape.
She constantly questions her reason
Her invisible reason to live
Her life changes like the seasons
In a world that takes but doesn’t give.
She counts the birds that flutter by
And views the grass blowing with the breeze.
She admires the seemingly endless sky
And longs her life to freeze.
She sits there upon the windowsill
Her eyes- never shut.
She feels as if there is no fill
For her heart which is glued put.
She sits there upon the wooden seat
She blinks, she frowns, repeat.
Wishing her life was not a mere guess.
She sits there- motionless.
There- upon the windowsill.
She sits there silent,
She sits there-
Still.