Weather In Your Head

All these skies filled with lighters, that of

Stars, comets and moon in the night,

Yet my cigarette and candles,

Lay on the table unlit,

So close yet so far.

I hear these shores of water,

Striking the rocks and

Dragging on the sand,

Yet they don't splash a drop on me.

I feel the fresh raindrops of new Monsoon dripping down

My porch ceiling,

Yet they don't kiss my face.

I feel the cold breeze and dry leaves Falling in the autumn,

Yet they dodge me off, 

Or pass through me.

I hear a voice in me asking me to,

Lurk out of these trapped four walls Around me, but I fail to,

Is it just me or is there someone

Out there expecting a similar

Question to be asked - 

How bad is the weather in your head?