These are the days, where they are so long
These are the days, where I am too stressed,
that not even a gym session could solve
These are the days, where I am so tired,
but not tired enough to crash
These are the days, where I raid my bath collection
And chose the one that smells my mood,
These are the days, where I crave my Honeysuckle scented candle,
as I unwind in the warm water, that sometimes carry bubbles.
As Autumn becomes Winter,
These are the days, where I open the bathroom window
To let in the cold air,
These are the days, where I listen to sound of raindrops
To the breeze or the wind,
These are the days, where I soak into nothingness
And let my imagination sore
Claire.
