Little Lives

Romanticising the warm light of the windows as I walk by

The lives that reside oh so comfortably behind the glass

Imagining just for a moment that you could be pushing open the door, throwing your keys down and meticulously picking through the groceries you’d been carrying on one hip

The smell of amber and vanilla infiltrating your senses

Home

The sun washes over you as it peeks through the blinds in the morning

And the sounds of birds work as the best alarm clock on a Sunday morning

Coffee brewed and ready to start your day

You take a long satisfying breath, stretch your arms to the sky and welcome the lazy day with an open heart, admiring the art the glazed glass windows make on the floor

Happiness

And then the mist of fantasy clears and I am once again walking home in the heavy London night back to my house of strangers, strung together haphazardly

And I realise

All I have ever wanted to be is content

Like the little lives I’ve dreamt of