Pressed hard against the window

pane,

The world grows dark.

Purples fall into the blues and the

pane

Ignites the glow within.

The walls may glow yellow,

a dull shade between regality and

Daylight.

But the ceilings burn white, ethereal.

The faces are turned towards me,

as if I am what inhibits the window

To open.

Outside, the darkness bloats.

Street lights flicker and distinguish.

The light inside fradiates from the

bodies

Surrounding me.

Their faces watch, but it is not the

light

That emanates off me.

Outside, my darkness cocoons,

encasing their fire, dulling their glow.

Pressed hard against the window

pane

My shadows knock against the glass.

2/25/2015 2:00 AM