Gone is the wind
Empty forests loom
Higher than before
A hush settles over
a hundred houses

the lake is rippling
like worn blankets covering the water
ebbing
dangerously close to the boardwalk's edge.

I turn and walk away,
my back yearns for the vast open lake
as if it were a sea I could lose myself in
instead I am lost to the city.

When I was little, I'd
Laugh at the dramas on TV
As if their existential problems were
Something minor and
Easily solvable.

But now I understand
That we have many problems,
And if you are unlucky enough to have
An existential crisis
weighing you down
In addition to those problems,
Then I will cry for you instead.

Nature
The atoms circling within
A cycle of energy
One world dissolving into the next.
Nature survives on death
An afterlife exists
After time has passed
One where there is no fear of the unknown.
No overpopulation in this area.
No need to travel space.
And who the hell cares about cancer.

When the universe is reborn
Laws will have changed
And under the influence of a new space
Nature
Will cease to exist.

It darts past the sharp edges from my bookshelf to windowsill,
Throwing jagged shapes of light
reflected by evening clouds
Into my dim grey room.

I could never stare at it too long
It is the sun of the evening to me
Its eerie white glow naturally more magnificent
Than the blocks of light coming from the city,
Rendering me sleepless.

I'm sorry, but I won't be popularized
By you folk,
Those folks taking a triple digit
Instagram follower count
As a sign of legitimacy

I crave something more than popular opinion.

Your melancholy sparkle
from my bathroom sink
catches the corner of my eye
I get off my bead sofa on the sterile white carpet, drag myself towards you, who was
a symbol of potential and promise
that day you sparkled like anything I've seen before.
Not too big, not too small.
Just like the space between our hands when we held them.

But then you slipped under
the not too big,
not too small crack of our front door
and dulled the lustre on your body