Can't stop.

Wandering with myself
Seagulls drifting to the window
Hands outstretched to catch them
Tossing out my blessing
Leaving little crumbs
Sand is collecting
Asking why I am?

I just have this sense of boxes
Little people rolling cubes
Without numbers upon them
Gun shots with no blood
Moss falling from the sky
Raining buttercups.
I can never really grasp...