The clean air suffocates me with tormenting familiarity
I couldn't stop myself, so
here I am
Dancing leaves remind me of their
death and nothing will be ok.
because ok is Hope and I don't know if Hope can work.
replace my hunger with emotion
curling around my slowly
Maybe it's the old feeling, fresh again
of impending warmth
with the new season.
The season of change; of happy
because good things often start
Perhaps the remaining
of winter apathy
leaves not without a bout of leftover lonely sadness of
Share This Poem