It seems that this life
is filled with
hazel eyes
watered down.
Watered down so that
not even the sun
nor wind
could or would chap and dry them.
but we wish they could.
the elements,
they are all I've got now.
When the pain strikes
and it rips my lungs
I would hope the wind would heal me.
Help me breath.
fill my lungs with its breath.
take away all this pain.
Or maybe the sun.
dry the shiver
awaken my alma.
soak up all my pain.
For a moment,
pain seemed to subside.
but the swiftness came.
Comes rudely.
Rudely indeed.
Never calls ahead.
no courtesy for me.
Barges in abruptly.
Today it came
to take me back,
to a place.
A place
which lately,
unfortunately,
seems too familiar.
This place jabs
hard.
My heart,
it can't breathe.
Is that where I am choking?
my lungs or heart.
Where is the wind?
I am too young to not love this life.
I am too young to feel this.
I regurgitate my heart.
It's the only thing left to do.
Then where do I go?
This new place is all I know.