Wings clipped from edges of earth, dusted with flecks of golden triumph and darkened by the ashes from graves of opportunities missed but still tried for. I tried to break the cage that locked me in, the bars were welded tightly together and sometimes I saw no way out. But the mind, just like the powers of the heart, can compress the aches, the pains, the hurt into tiny boxes, only setting themselves (and you) free when open space to be us, appear.

I found a lot of open spaces lately despite the crowdedness of sub-urban life. I found spaces that encouraged me, that loved me, that even glorified me. It is nice to be so unconditionally loved even when sometimes misunderstood.

But the cage remains around certain parts of me. Around things I may not be able to let go of for some time–around the angst about the future, the worry around my potential, the uncertainty around everything amid chaos. I am still compartmentalizing. Emotional boxes are still bound tight with invisible tape, silencing my own words, own thoughts, and the chaos in the background.

The wings, albeit in disarray, still allow me to fly, sometimes to places I never thought I would go. And when they become so unfeathered, there is always another opportunity for transformation.

To warm to shiver, to cold to show elbows on the streets.

Your seasons change in a days time, like the constant flutter of my hearts mind.

I thought it was time for spring, trees bearing their seasonal fruits, flowers opening after winter has faded, grass and wheat stalks moving gracefully with each gust of gentle wind.

The air around me felt more hopeful, and so did I. I like to think seasons change to encourage us to as well. But your clouds have confused me because rainy days make me feel dark blue, like the color of a bottomless body of water, holding so much mystery and fear that cannot be seen, cannot be felt.

But it’s you that makes me feel like that, like being trapped beneath inches of black water unable to find the surface, catch my breath, and stay afloat.

The tides of your unpredictability crashed over me so many times, at so many different speeds, I never seemed to be able to understand their patterns.

I used to love the ocean, all bodies of water. The endless horizons, the sounds of salt water ebbing and flowing towards me like an innocuous lullaby–

I used to love the change of seasons,

The promise of spring,

The way summer can make you feel like anything is possible.

But all the places I went with you, the times of year and the seasons I spent with you, are temporarily marked by that dark blue and black, that fearful feeling of looking down beneath the surface, the trepidation of letting go and moving on.

I will need sometime to remember why I loved it all in the first place and to see that the only constant is me.

Emerald green like the color of a city at the end of a yellow brick road,
Her eyes sparkle like the depths of the forest but she has no idea how deep she truly is.
Thoughts suppressed by shallowness–
hallowed out souls whose skin has never felt the strength of any other sunset.
Pausing in spaces of time seem meaningless,
relation to others always fall short of her expectations.
Still wishing for a revived love or a forgotten friendship Searching for them somewhere on a rusty swing, a rotted out park bench--
all the places she used to sit.
Mind still floating along the wings of moments ephemeral, heart aches palpably.
She is still wondering how she can ever feel more alive than then.