Serenity Pt. 1

The day melts slowly into paint

A looking glass fogs, like dust to glimmer in a heavy rain

I can smell the rust.

Turning inward, what were once enveloped by the commotion of the exterior world become blanketed in a familiar cocoon

I invite this shroud, for it burns no blood and takes no breath,

no,

it rids me of the burdens which spit fire at my every step, like a dance I do not by choice,

for as long as it remains that is

so I shall sleep