The Flowers bloom in Spring
and it is evident
That I'm not one of them.

For in the rain,
I drown
and drown
my voice gets muffled and
I can't hear myself speak
think

i know what it's like to be like he.
to be like he who
cannot hear my
desires
and fears

for i haven't strength to
share them
to push them past the
soiled ground.

if flowers come in May,
then I am leaving.

and if you cannot sense my sorrow
i am going.

if you cannot see me
stuck inside
a seed
or hard, raw earth
passion trapped like
an avalanche

then I know you
wouldn't notice
if I bloomed
[a flower]
in front of you.