The sound of air

The sound of water

The sound of sand

The sound of particles flowing above me

The sound of blood running through me

Little things gradually begin to connect

Large things, growing ever larger, begin to crumble

Becomes smaller. Disappears. Appears. Disappears.

No one is present; no one is present inside my heart

Quiet and vast

There stands a giant tree

Quiet and vast, between the sky and grassy plain it stands

Why is it that we try and show ourselves in a positive light?

Why is that we try so hard everyday to have others like us?

Why is that, when people finally like us, we want to be alone?

I want to be spoiled by someone

I want to be drawn to something soft

I want to reveal a secret to someone

I want people to see my true self

Or do I not want them to see?

I want people to see, but I am afraid of being seen

Which is why I am sad.

That is what I think.