1

the echo of my soul is unpronounced

and muffled by the voices

i want to understand. 

there is so much air

for me to take in,

yet i only breathe small amounts—

even then my body only

uses part of it

and spits the rest out.

this is such a continuous cycle.

life begins,

the days repeat

life ends.

how then, do i break out of the mold,

explore on my own

and find the answers i want so much

to know.

i am restless and longing

for more, yet i have more than most.

such a paradox of emotion

caused by excessive sleeping

and not enough sun. 

oh seattle,

if anything will make crazy,

it’s you.