Looking Through That Window

Looking through that window,
On into the distant horizon,
Hand on the glass,
Trying to touch the image.

A reality beyond my access,
The cold glass,
The warm horizon.
A world away.

All time passing in the landscape.
While I’m trapped, inside a time stuck. Still.
Looking out past this glass,
Into the the warm sunset,
That I cannot feel.

Waiting, wanting, thinking.
Feeling.
Feeling the yearning.
But beyond this glass barrier,
All I have is a numbing barrier.

The cold glass on my skin,
Cold eyes,
Going numb and tired.
Tired of,
Looking through that window.

The world,
Changing,
Moving,
Living.

Behind the glass I find myself placed.
Staring out,
Out into the world.
Thinking.

Trapped in this place,
Behind this glass,
A barrier to feeling,
To touch.

But then there’s that warmth,
A small flame of hope,
Just over that horizon.
Just beyond,
To be reached for,
To be found.

But for now.
I find myself.
Looking through that window.
The cold of the glass.

Looking through that window.


Thinking of a person I haven’t seen in a long time, they helped me so much. I kinda miss them. Miss them. But they’re probably busy and have a lot going on. But still. Remember the goodbye. But oh well. Time always passes.

I’m not sad, just thinking, I guess this is a storyesque poem then, kind of. I’m actually quite happy, having almost finished all my essays, in plenty of time. Also listening to a kinda sad song.

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