Why is it so blinding
when I look at the rising sun
I blink my hazy eyes.
I imagine people living inside the sun,
Throwing a party every morning.
Maybe the reason I hate mornings
Is because I wasn’t invited.
When I was young,
I loved the glow of the setting sun.
Maybe because I wasn’t invited there either.
If I were like you,
I would’ve waited for every morning,
And feel a quiet ache watching the sunset
I think I’m lonely.
Love seems easy for you,
But the scars I carry,
You probably don’t have them.
I imagine people living inside the sun,
Throwing a party every morning.
Maybe the reason I hate mornings
Is because I wasn’t invited.
I’m used to being on the outside.
I’m just wondering.
I’m just wondering.
I’m just wondering.
what it feels like to be at a party
