Snowball bushes and fresh grass
It wasn't summer yet I could feel the heat from you
Soft browns and whites, the pupils of your eyes more of a calm black
Lost in the youth of the moment
And the innocence of freshman year
Winter always makes me nostalgic
Listening to the music made by the trees
Leaves rustling and the small of fresh water as the clouds cry for each other
I begin to wonder why I waste my time thinking about my past
I'll be posting more often. Sorry I haven't been posting lately.
A seed is planted at the first mark
You always remember the start
You have to quench the thirst
Poison ivy is growing in my veins
And I dig them up using thorns
Red like roses, soft as petals
Skin meets the sharp metal
I may post a better version of this because I'm gonna try to polish it a bit more
Sadness makes me implode
Anger makes me explode
Why did everything have to fall apart so quick?
I thought our love was like glue and would stick.
You have to fall before you fly but what about those who don't know how to?
Might be part of another poem soon
After the swatches of reds, oranges, and browns blend into the ground
After the trees have stripped to nothing but naked bark and branches
The windy air welcomes a new, blank canvas
A tray with peppermint red and pine tree green
Gentle strokes capture the crisp frost on roof tops
And the steam from chimneys and mugs of mocha and caramel
A single breath is accompanied by a opaque white cloud
And the exposed trees are given a white sweater
— The End —