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Cynder Mar 2016
Queen of wildflowers,
your crown of Black Eyed Susan's and Bluebells looked like early July.
Cynder Jan 2016
Most of the time, it’s enough to just see her happy.
But most of the time the only happy I see is the slight grin that rests on the edge of her lips, like something she forgot to wipe away.

I can’t help wanting to be that something that tugs on the corners of her mouth until her face hurts from smiling.
Cynder Jan 2016
There is no way to describe the feeling of being choked by the words I can’t say because they have sunk to the bottom of my lungs.

There should be a name for the nights spent wishing that the right words existed so that I could learn to explain the unexplainable.

There was no way to articulate to her restless bones that my mood sways on the tips of her fingers that never stop dancing when everything else is still.
Cynder Jan 2016
They called you flower, I guessed it was because of the way you livened up a room. Somehow every time you approached a smile crawled across my face. I snatched it off and tried to swallow it fast before you noticed. Every time I’m around you I run into butterflies. I once told you that the bad days are the reason we can realize the good ones, you said that if it wasn't for good days we’d never have to notice the bad ones.

I wonder what a good day for you looked like.

Mid Summer, you filled your days thriving to the best of your ability, the clay you landed upon was so thick your roots had to claw their way in.  Easy wasn't part of your routine, your clenched jaw and wondering eyes told stories your tongue would never be able to articulate. I never dared to get too close for fear of being stung by bees you attracted.

I wonder why days I don’t see you feel eternal and those I do seem to disappear before I remember to greet them properly and say come again soon.

late autumn, the hard winds blows and you are left standing brittle and cold do not think that this is the end, for come spring that seed you thought you couldn't live without has grown and is part of you. You have to remind yourself that days you think you see the light at the end, is just another day with the sun in your eyes. Please remember that you are beautiful, and if you feel like dying, that just means you were picked. I wish you all the wellness the world has to offer.

I wonder if you whispered your secrets into the veins on your wrists because you thought you had no else to talk to.

Winter, I remember the day I learned that you weren't a perennial, that you won’t be back. I got sea sick by the wave of thought that came over me. I couldn't image a world without you would look like. But I know the seeds you have planted in our hearts will flourish with us after this hard winter.

I wonder if you knew that the flowers you left in my thoughts grew roots in my veins and now every time I bleed I see you.

Spring time, the butterflies that used to linger around you have left. The parts you left behind remind me of you. When they sway with the wind, they tell secrets only you knew. The snow has melted and I can see the clay where you once stood. Nothing grows there now. Nothing is brave enough to challenge to the earth you used to call home. There is only a sign that states “Remember the good days.” The memories help soothe the ache, but then I remember that you told me if it wasn't for good days we’d never notice the bad ones. The summer sun will only remind me what the light in your eyes felt like.
I wonder if you would have been able to see how cherished you were in the reflection of my smiles I was always too afraid to let you see.

— The End —