The Taste of Grey

I love the grey. I love the howling of the wind outside. I reside at the peak of a mountain. I reside in the grey clouds. From my window I can see the raindrops. The winter is my scene. Perhaps I’m cold hearted. People normally like the sunny days. Maybe they’re warm hearted. I feel a drizzle n whizzle in my insides. I seldom leave my house. Why should I though, I have a birds eye view. Hawk-eye, 6/1. I can see what’s happening on ground zero.

People are busy. People are occupied. They occupy, I fly. Fly into a lil corner somewhere in the depth of my heart. With an electric heater to my west, on a warm cosy blanket with my head rested on the epitomy of tranquility. This is where I dwell. Most importantly, this is where I choose to be.

Somewhere on the peak of the mountain.