Rain plummets from your branches
to my face,
Overflowing leaf's chimb
Onto unvigilant ish limbs
While my blinking eyes are dim,
You long for an embrace,

Without word yet of rejection,
You are ever bold.
You've thrown your achy breeze at me
And now you throw those icy leaves at me
Cause this pain to freeze in me.
With your icy hold.

I do not have a love for you
Deluging tree.
Stay close to your own stem,
You're a cold love I condemn
Leave me in my lonesome,
Can you not see?

I do not want your flowers, berries,
branch nor bark
I don't want your petals' play,
Nor your leafy locks to sway,
I want your leaflets to on this day
remain at far.

Your frosty touch on my skin
it blanches
I'm not ready for love so steely
I suspect I never will be
So stick to your own tree, please
Rainy branches.

I could wither like a flower
growing dry and dull
craving, sip, neglect

I want to be the ground
of drought
crack, dust, break
forget

I want to disappear
like dead leaves
become the dirt
the windy breaking speck

I could die like the earth
suffer, cry, an end.

I want to be
collar, hipbone, and neck

Fashionable to the era,

A cascading armchair draped with linens

And Clara.

Crochet young girl.

You’ll be what the world desires.

Polite, elegant and petite, with curls

A porcelain doll,

A pretty puppet with pearls

Your heart ticks like a clock

Darling, that'd make your love time.

All I can hear is your sweet voice talking

As I strain to rhyme.

While you remain youthful,

Your timeless romances have aged me

Seems like it’s been years since you have

Ticked for me solely.

Fleeting seconds filled full with neck kisses,

“aged-just- right” red and your lovely self, faultlessly fictitious.

Something’s changed. Evidently so,

Tell me why it’s different darling…

Where did the time go?

Salient eyes' silent whispers,

Beneath a violet veil.

My rotten masts are hiding beneath,

The flow of my windswept sail.

Wilted daisies and ****** feet,

All for the sake of the trail.

To scratch the ground and make a mark

Only for dust-caked nails.

I seem alright. I’ve got it together,

Unintended portrayal.

My outsides have become dried and pale
From the burnings hands stemming from insincere arms.
They had promises of lovely embrace
Flowing through outstanding veins.
Blood that burns through your flesh to the surface
Stroking mine with corrosive caresses.
It's tingle transforms to dolorous, to burn.
It scars me yellow.
My insides are green still, but

Brazing endures.

The moon is a flower to bloom in the dark
No a tree.
With leaves unfaithful,
With clouds of bark
Though, the imperious hands of the winds
Steal them away
These green petals shine brightly?
No,
They are dimmed
In the shadow cast by the flower eye
Which flourishes still in a way
The envious and scathing petals can never fare.
The moon and the night have a romance,
Not easily tampered with by the simple leaf.

Ignore the rain.
Ignore the bright rain clouds rolling
over blue skies
Becoming grey, veiled, crying.
In front of your eyes,
Clouds, they're there for your finding.
But you can't feel it; the icy drops winding
Down your neck, your cheeks
Running though your weary hair
Your spine falls numb,
White clouds, and skin fair.
Darling, don't pretend you can't hear me.
Like salty tears, summer rain runs
like a mistake on canvas
Your silence in my ears. C'est te chante, un sonnet comme,
Like the blue skies peeking,
Windy rain whistling, me quietly speaking
Where have you been my blue sky?

My heart is upside down and cracked but I'm the sweet soil

Creases and cracks cradle seeds naive, new, they coil

From, come vines and leaves of bracken, shackles, intertwine

My lips in silent sighs, petals fall prudently as my budding words vine

I am soil, embraced in the roots creative, loving and kind

My flowers, not alike except in name.

Some feel and smell like home and the smiles. Some feel and smell of home, melancholy, and denial.

I'm both erosive and endearing. And both longing for home and fearing.

My adolescence is gone. It fell through the cracks of this screen.

I'm home alone and searching. I want to find you, words with meaning.

What if I don't find you, or your historical connotation;

Your connection, and your real-life citations.

I needed you. I studied you. Not quite memorized, but I read you every day.

I am not conceited, just yearning to read what the letters from my past have to say.

Please come back. My heart will be missing until your return.

Please come back.