I can feel the heat of my blood
as I slide
and I close my eyes,
a shaky breath crawling out of my mouth
-
tasting bittersweet coffee
feeling sun on my hair
smelling sparklers
being rain
and pouring and pouring and pouring
-
Becoming all of these things
and losing myself in the process,
the point of it all being
that there is none at all

I am strong and I am brave.
I do not shake and I do not wave.
My color is green and crazily bright.
Come Autumn I will be ready to fight.
I am surrounded and yet I am friendless.
The life I live is all but endless.
I can feel September and I can feel the chill.
The shaking begins against my will.
I am turning red and I am turning old.
There is no fight when it comes to the cold.
I am powerless and I am weak.
The air is crisp and my life is bleak.
I am breath and I am air.
I fall downwards and say a prayer.
‘Let me be May and let me be strong,
Let me feel right and let me feel wrong.
Hold me like I’m delicate and hold me like I’ll break,
Hold me like I’m meaningful in the morning’s wake.’
I am immobile and I am beat.
Let me crunch underneath your feet.