The sweet scent of the air in spring makes me feel...


Disconnected.


Should I remember the flowers that bloomed?
Or past relationships that withered?

Perhaps my several trips to the seaside?
Or would I just drown in worries?

The comfortable combination of
Warm sunshine,
Cool breeze?
Or the painful sting of
Burning
Betrayal?

Though it is a new season, in a new year,
I can't help but feel aged with burden.

A thousand words written
On this pretty little layout
Of a cute minimal website,
Made of numbers and lines of code,
Made of people whose poems are told
Because now they have a place to go.

I paint the picture with pastel colors.
Dotting the sky in pink clouds
While the horizon lay in an amber slumber.
A single pine tree slanted towards the crystal lake;
I draw another for companionship.
And it soon blooms into a forest
With shrubs and blackberry bushes and ferns,
Then I make a ripple in the lake
With leaves that drift along the gentle current
To the farther edges of the tender loch.

I envisioned the clear waters of the wetlands
As I cleaned my pallet and washed away the paint,
Like how painting landscapes washed away my worries.

Mist may hide mountains,
But nothing covers my smile
When my eyes grasp you.

I missed the bus seconds after the last passenger boarded.

Now I sit here alone,
Waiting for another vessel
To drag me to my destination.

The air is cold,
And my heart is still thumping away
Due to physical exertion to reach the thing I missed -
But like everything else,
My hopes,
My dreams,
They're too far to reach.

I don't know how to end this
But mention the tiny speckle of headlights
And the roar of the large vehicle in the distance.
So now I think:
'There's always another bus.'

Late night Macca-run,
Busted up hand-me-down car
Rattling along the rocky road
With his warm hoodie draped around me
Like a toga with a Supreme sticker.

AC's turned off in traffic
As the night breeze is all we need
To enjoy this comfortable night
In his car, together.

I order a hot chocolate.
He orders a cheeseburger.
And we share the fries,
And I drain his pepsi
Until all there is
Is a pile of melted ice
And the soft pallet of knock-off cola
- in which both of us refuse to drink the leftover contents.

The cup is still warm in my hands,
And the car smells of fried food and cocoa powder.
His eyes are focused on the road,
While mine are focused elsewhere.

Soon,
He drops me home,
and ditches the trash.
And that was the end of our quiet late-night dinner-date.

You're not depressed.
You're just ******* yourself.
Take a day off,
Drink more water,
Works for me every time.
Better yet take a vacation.
Go to Bali for shopping spree,
The beach and the sun will do you good.
Change your diet, you lack iron, obviously.
Replace the word 'Anxious' with 'Excited'
- It will make you feel wholesome.
Take some yoga classes,
Buy yourself a cute puppy,
They increase endorphin levels.
Ice cream is cheaper than therapy! Eat some of that too.
There is also another cure - Jesus. Jesus loves you.
Cheer up, honey!
It's all in your head!
Don't let it affect you!
You're not depressed!
This is all t e m p o r a r y .