My room is small
And dark
because the only window
is currently hidden behind the open door
I sit here
on my bed with my fairy lights on
my thoughts drifting to imagining
the kind of wild nature
that would shake me out of my drowsiness
my lazy, everyday confusion
my frustration and fear that my days are not as
explosive
as they could be
I want to go to Norway
to Iceland
to the Scottish Highlands
I want screaming cliffs
and merciless winds
colds that will scare all thought from my mind
but the thought of a warm fire in a small cottage
in the middle of nowhere
I want wilderness and brutal beauty
to ruffle my flat and bored feathers,
feathers that long for a different room
with a different view