It feels like a gift,
Maybe its true,
My life, worth something?
Surprising news.

Chilly winds seep through my paling skin,
With ghostly palor,
I faint into the downpour.
Washed into the muddy path,
It clumps in my hair.
An earthy cleansing.
I peer towards
The quivering hearts-
They've changed this spring.

Bleeding more profusely,
I pump them through my fingers.
The stems refuse to snap,
Buds infinitely thumping,
Regardless.
Wind, rain, time-
None of it changes,
Always by my side.

Is this your odd message?
Delivered through something you know I won't ignore-
The air is fresh,
Everything renewed.
In the distance,
Ripe-red apples bloom.

I'm not sure I like this year,
Time trudges along,
Indifferent.
None of it will stop,
But I can't think fast enough.
Just let my brain go blank-
Will my destination change?