I don't have elegant words
I'm not one to relate lips
To fresh picked strawberries

But I have feelings
They could deafen you
With their dial tone

And god I try to use them for good
But I end up finding the bad
In everything

I know you're a little rough
around the edges, I'm a bit
coarse on the inside

There are moments where
I question it all
I'm blind when you're not here

The simmer on my
hard-to-warm-up-to soul
slowly dissipates

I ought to learn to remind myself
It's okay to open up my thick skull
To let someone see what's underneath

But who's to say
I won't regret it
Like I have with every other
Gallivanting soul I've allowed
To muddy up my doorstep?

There is something so elegant

About the moonlight
In the midst of night

As it reflects

Through your window
Off the glimmering snow

Instead of disappearing

Between the deep cracks
Of the luscious grass

That belongs to the summer

The winter speaks to me through its underlying bone chill
The cold beneath my skin feels a bit less lonely
Darkness, so comfortable and sweet
It dances through my nerves
The summer is enticing but it tries to melt my unlit soul
There's nothing like the balance between
Tangled, frozen veins
And dying branches
Littering their last tokens of hope
Along the un-accepting ground