These Eyes

The windows of my soul are ever revealing

What I want and what I think I don't.

If you look in them very closely you see something,

But a second longer I promise you won't.

It's not that I am fickle,

Or because my mind is remade

But because I become speckled,

Worn with wearisome age.

I may appear young in some kind of sense,

But the windows of my soul do not lie at my expense.

 

-January 11, 2012

 

I feel like I've been painted over in a white wash today. There's a coat of old feeling lingering around me and I can't wait to shake it off. If I wasn't so tired I would try running. Instead I think I'll get more sleep since I finished the second book in the Hunger Games. Maybe, if I get really restless, I'll ask mom to buy me the third one tonight.

Done