I thought a plastic bag was a heron,
and knew that it was like the pain I'm bearing.
There's just no more credit to score.
I don't want to be dead anymore.
When I'm writing in the woods
and thinking what I should and that I could,
I get out of my head
and awaken in my bed.
There is no one outside.
I don't need to hide.
I can be as I am.
This life isn't a scam.
All those ex's are incorrect,
what you are is how you affect.
Change can happen when the wind blows.
The bag ripples but the mind knows.
The world is what you perceive it to be
even if I can't see it correctly.
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