you shoved flowers in
my ears and told me
to listen closely as
though forcing
the good in
will efface
the bad

I can't wait for the summer again when:
I can stand in a big open field and look up at the sky with the sun setting in the West, slipping down the trees and through holes in the horizon until it's bled away into the atmosphere.

*I can't wait for the summer again when:
I can stand on a hill at dusk and breath in the air that smells faintly like brush fire and soft woodsmoke, tinted with the summery tang of ripening fruit; peaches to be exact.

I can't wait for the summer again when:
I can wake up on the early mornings where the fog veils the trees like wispy lace, scented like lavender and rain, mixing the air like watercolours, swirling pinks and blues and purples together to create a pallet.

I can't wait for the summer again when:
I can sit on my front porch and watch the sky explode with lightning during a thunderstorm, illuminating the fronts of houses and my driveway, drenching everything in purple and white light.

I can't wait for the summer again when:
I can be free.

crying in the rain so you can't see my tears

Warm as soil beneath spring sun
banishing memories of januarys frost
time has not dulled your light
my skin heals
my scars soften
your flowers bloom again each spring
as nesting birds begin to sing
Roses grow within you

Ivory skin,
     alabaster nerves.
Daisy chain veins,
     lily petal fingertips.
Eggshell skull,
     cellophane lungs.
Brittle ladder ribcage,
     punctured balloon heart.
Spineless ***** child,
     with his birds' bones and naivety.