it’s cold and i can’t get on with my life

as any other morning,

the cold creeps through the cracks of sheets looking for any reason to keep you covered from the world.

and I give in, as any other morning.

I lay here and see what the world is doing and others see what I’m doing;

it’s cold and I know it’ll only get colder.

I’m thinking of writing so I write this to those looking for something to read.

And I see those looking for God in my words—-

and those who can’t see.

Inching my way back into the real world–keep me locked away with my books!

My heart says it’s ready yet the cold keeps me inside.

Must I awake? Must I move on?

A few more months–maybe after the holidays! I’ll get up I promise just a bit more time..

it’s early and cold and im thinking of writing and all of the things that pile up in my life that i need to take care of and i have echos of others telling me what to do and sometimes—

i just cant.

So please,

just let me stay a few more months.

I’ll get up I promise.

It’s just too cold right now. And I’m comfy.

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