asphalt death

the walls of this townhouse are smothering me. the asphalt parking lot is numbing my senses, stealing my hopes. i can see the sun in the distance but the small windows keep it dark and depressing here. the wind whips through the courtyard and i beg it to come inside, but open doors and windows are not safe here. i long for wide open space and silent nights. the chriping of crickets lulling me to sleep with only moon light shining through me windows. the street likes dont exist here.i long to run outside and do as i please with no one watching, leave my doors unlocked and hang my laundry in the yard, plant flowers and tomatoes and watch them grow and bloom. i want to be anywhere but here, as long as anywhere is green.