A girl lays on top of her bed.
Wishing for the sun to come out
She's tired of all her dreams
knowing that they're all dead
The morning never comes
so she continues to lay down
it's so quiet she can hear her heart
as steady as a bass drum
Seconds, minutes, hours on end
Position in the exact same spot
Realization draws on her
Like harsh strokes of an inked pen
After a while she rolls on her side
no longer wanting to lay on her back
Her imagination runs through her
like wind in her hair on a roller coaster ride
With her hands beneath her head
the sun light finally enters her room
but with her eyes closed she doesn't notice
for she has died laying on top of her bed.
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