(inspired by Malia’s poem ‘crack the code’)

the unspoken poems
are the loudest
the ones you don’t utter
the times you don’t bother
symphonies of silence
votes of no confidence
trust marbled with rust
what's become of us?

If the last leaf falls from the barren tree
As the flowers turn frail, cold, and dry
In the deepest darkest times
Where the soul cannot find the light

When the heart turns to nature
With the sun and moon as its guide
During the wintry depths of desperation
On the darkest nights when the stars collide

In this losing battle called life
We're meant not to win or conquer
Our aim is for the sky with feet rooted to the green
Finding beauty in the smallest of things

I run,
through forests barefoot
aching with sore feet,
tired legs
and a cold heart...

I run,
from wild-flowers,
daisies and lavenders.
As I cry myself to sleep-
anxiously avoidant.
Begging everyone not to leave me,
while I sleep alone in another country-
fearing closeness and distance at the same time...