The lyrics dance and laugh around my living room,
Soundwaves set their luggage down on my bed.
I wake up from my guest bedroom and head to the kitchen.
the drums are watching TV on my couch and
the guitars are making me breakfast.
The smell seeps into my nose and tickles my brain.
I sit at the table near the window with the trumpets.
We drink our coffee in sweet silence, gazing out the window.
If it wasn't for their company,
I never would have noticed how the sun rays play in tree leaves like excited little children,
how the trees and flowers fall into step with the wind,
or how the clouds twirl and spin for us before swimming away.
I wonder how they notice all of that so easily.
I only ever notice when they point it out.
But it's not like im looking anymore anyways
because I kind of like hearing them talk about it.
I wish my friends could stay forever.
Maybe they could teach me how to see these things when I'm alone.
I look back from my window and find my friends gone.
My wired headphones, tangled on the ground below my feet.
My breakfast must have gone cold on the kitchen counter.
I stand up and head to eat it quickly
Maybe if the guitars were still here, they would heat it back up for me.
I finish my food.
It was okay.
Maybe if the drums were here, I could've shared it with them.
I jog back to the table near the window, crossing my fingers.
I trip and fall onto my chair, its legs scraping against the wood with a long groan.
I always hate that noise.
Maybe if the trumpets were here, I wouldn't have heard it.
The trumpets are always loud.
I adjust myself on the chair with an impatient scootch.
I turn back to the window
jacobvanloon
janainaart
titsay
izzy806
origamiaround
theartofmadeline
snowghoul
