how can a month paint my eyes
and turn my tears into a fountain of numb feeling?
yet i can still see this world
through the
layers
you spread with your fingers.
i can't find myself
in these april
showers.
it shows, oh it shows

Golden honeyed petals in a riverbank of lavender,
dreading the moment the daffodils no longer dance
swept off their feet, prisoners to a purple world
this is how flowers die

It is without snow, the roses do not become brides,
Without oceans, the frogs do not feel endless,
It is without clouds, the sun does not feel loved
Without birds, the bears forget nature's music.

It is without you, I feel alone.
It is with you, I love.

Forget-me-not,
spells the flowers in your eyes.

Do not be afraid. Do not worry.
I will Forget-you-never.

The morning will come soon,
do you hear the gossip of the stars?
They say the sun is angry,
the moon stole another,
and he weeps for his lover.
Morning will come soon,
I stay with the moon
but I wish you the best of luck.

The moon told me stories,
and I left to find them.

I won't come back.
Moonlight has brought me far
and I've lost too much to turn around.

Yet, even the moon says I'm not
good enough to find its treasured stories.

Not earth not sky saw me
the way I dreamed they would.

the way I dreamed I could be seen.
O what a dream.
And it was but that. A dream.

My life is worthless,
I don't have a single petal
to add to this garden
of darling scarlet roses.
I have nothing to give,
everything is dying
in my grasp
and soon my soul will be fleeing
my life to wither away
and never come back.