I haven't felt this way
since the witch took my smile away.
I've gone back to the negativity,
stepped back into the doubt, fallen
        back to empty.
Even though I've removed myself
        from toxic air,
the fumes absorbed through my hair,
and into my mind as it traveled.

Nostalgia creeps around every
        corner.
The smell of the fresh, cold spring air
puts me in a familiar field within.
The sweet songs of songbirds
pull me back to my days as an
        observer, a watcher of nature.

But the field is nowhere in sight,
the birds are here, but the grass is
        not.
I cannot tell where I stand anymore,
I stand straight in air that I've known,
thinking it's one I left behind.

Emptiness has never been dropped
upon my head this early in
Earth's rebirth.
Nostalgia is a killer,
and I am its victim.