My flower yearns for you
in quiet moments, folded
beneath journals of misguided truth.

My life spins by in fast forward
I look down upon myself
and I tremble,
one feel so alone on October nights.

I remember your lips
tainted with coffee and cigarettes,
I’ve never been a smoker
but I liked the taste
and now I crave it through photographs
swollen with lust.

I’m crying in the bathroom and
I wish I could tell him everything fogging my thoughts,
keeping me pinned down from reality.

I find myself slipping away
more often than less and
my daydreams yield more satisfying than
theory lectures and structured papers
how does one make themselves noticed
in a world of so much corruption?

Hidden under fields of lilacs
is the truth—
my truth.

Wrapped up in twine and buried in the deep blue earth are
my memories silenced by songbirds.