In the summer I was so hot that i couldn't breathe. I couldn't move...gasping for air on my knees.
There I was stuck in that burning hot place where you left me.
There was no cool breeze and comfy hoddies  in that fall for me.
I was still burning under the merciless sun.
But winter I felt. So surely I was cold and grey. Frozen. Wishing upon a star for the summer sun to melt the iceberg I became.
So I could start my search and find it again.
Seeking comfort in those who are not my friend. I had chased the untrue because it was better than you.
Then there was spring. It rained and it poured. Certainly I was drained but thankfully I had found a new door. I was allowed to dwell no more.
Now summer is here once again. But this time it is my friend. The summer sun kisses my skin. I flow through effortlessly. I have found my serenity. It never left....I had to find it inside of me.
-Jennifer DeAngelo
Copyrighted 2016

What it'd be
to be the same cup of tea
and poured so thoroughly
for all the world to see

What it'd be
to be sought and enjoyed
rather than looked
through tainted and destroyed
colored glasses,
decidedly annoyed
people fix me irritated glances
I'm not a crowd pleaser
and alone viewed as bitter
I'm sorry I'm not your cup of tea
if you see a quiter
then a bitter quiter has to be me

What it'd be
to not even be me
maybe instead
from a mint brewery
then my demeanor
would appear brighter,
cleaner
but not to you
achu achu
appearances never
faze to blue
until that brew adieus

What it'd be
for my recipe
to have been escriben
so graciously
near my name
Instead drank ostensibly
spit contemptuously
and given tired out pleasantries
failed to taste great piquancy
no red, yellow, or blue cup's
compatible dripping amenity

And oh what it'd be
for you to see
that with the alliance with a honey bee
everyone's cup of tea

Everyday had been a spoonful of you
Now all the nights, weeks
An aftertaste, sweetly, almost
The white dots left in my vision
They haunt, they ring
Occasionally an after image
A bright salmon, an almost mermaid
Flicks it's silver in my eye
I'll turn, but as quick as a fly
The sweetness is gone
Left to die

The fog of forgotten memories
Blankets the cracking pavement
So nothing can be seen aside from yellow and white lines
and the bottoms of tires.
A slight drizzle begins to fall out of the clouds
But just as quickly as it started
the fog is receding
And the diluted colors of a vibrant city
pulse all around
Like a heartbeat from somewhere deep inside.
Muffled sounds of people come from somewhere,
come from everywhere.
Its almost as though its all a dream,
you can focus on one thing or nothing but not everything at once,
and everything seems too crazy to be real
But a pinch on the arm can be felt
And the dream doesn’t end.
Everything looks and sounds like its underwater
And the colors blend together until no colors exist at all.
The sounds get louder and everything is coming more into focus
And a symphony is playing
With the staccato of honking horns
And the shrill of constant chatter.
But its all hidden from the rest of the world,
the sensations fading as you cross the bridge away
And looking back, all that is seen is the fog and the road,
Making you wonder if you imagined it all in the first place.