driving past red
calming hues of blues and greens
nature's imitator, bleakly, but resilient
if I were the ant I would step on me, too
often I am, but disguised
cracks in the sidewalk are cracks in my exterior
I paint myself thin upon tree branches
I drip - drip with gravity's whim
blurry-eyed and sleep-deprived
glutton for existing as such
in my hands, crumbled, dry leaves
relish in the ending of acts
misguided attempts at steeping leaves
harvested during new moon
tranquility is unreached at current times
I am always sure to remind what's forgotten
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
driving past red
calming hues of blues and greens
nature's imitator, bleakly, but resilient
if I were the ant I would step on me, too
often I am, but disguised
cracks in the sidewalk are cracks in my exterior
I paint myself thin upon tree branches
I drip - drip with gravity's whim
blurry-eyed and sleep-deprived
glutton for existing as such
in my hands, crumbled, dry leaves
relish in the ending of acts
misguided attempts at steeping leaves
harvested during new moon
tranquility is unreached at current times
I am always sure to remind what's forgotten
