I can no longer write
what must come out now is feeling
No words just color, line and texture.

The bird sings into the silent night
And puts all the frogs to shame.
The crickets lower their violins
To be able to hear the echo of names.
The names of all the beautiful things
That makes up this little world.
The names of every flower,
Twinkling star,
And little girl.

The bird resonates into the silent night
A solo opera for open ears,
It bleeds its soul into the darkened sky
Only audible for a few to hear.
The creatures wait on baited breath
To listen to its song.
To hear the melancholy tune
Stretch out all night long.

The bird ***** in its little tree
With eyes only half closed,
It sings a sweet soft melody
To nature down below.
It sings of tomorrow’s promises,
Of all the laughter and the joy,
The bird sings us a lullaby
To help our dreams come alive.
ALC March 17, 2016

first nature is sadness and
second nature is you.
once the second nature dies
the first nature returns.
primary being.
where I am sad.

you came as a habit that stuck
you left like a part of me being ripped away
return second nature
come back

please?

It's getting harder to wake up alone
I know we don't sleep so well
in each others beds
But for every moment
I wake up to you smiling at me
as you do in the morning
when the sun strike our faces
I'd give all my sleep
just to feel that precious