And again they leave
And again I’m stuck in fanciful wonder of what could’ve been.
Out the window, I stare into the core of the earth
My monotonous expression is no replication of what I am feeling inside
Although the core of the earth is similar to that of my heart, as I dabble into the fundamental realms of my imagination
Holt; I hear a knock on the door
“dosh, dosh, dosh”
Expressions become raw,
God dammit who’s at the door?
Would it have been so hard to leave a note telling me what you wanted to utilise me for?!
And again they leave
And again, it’s just me.