Amidst the humidity and darkness of the forest floor
ants scurry in hyper-speed over invisible highways
mushrooms spread boldly beneath wise wooden giants

At night, black panthers weave through thick overgrowth,
undetected, as birds quieten their hungry young and sleep
But even in the rich darkness of the dense forest
micro flashes of silken pink and yellow cream can be seen
catching the moon's light, glowing like precious gems

By day these colours dim in their translucent chambers
atop the world's most beautiful, fearless caterpillar

This tiny being boldly ventures from one leaf to another
while all others cower underneath
Its crystal spikes hide only soft, sticky goo
and it is no bigger than a fingernail

But don't be fooled by its size and raw beauty,
this bejeweled crown easily summons its strength
to move faster than the angry west winds

Its beauty comes not only from its form
but in its lion-hearted spirit and grace

This confident caterpillar lives
and surrenders to change
without the leaden shackles of fear and worry

and when the time comes
she embraces
and is transformed again
to something new.

love is not a scarcity
it is a renewable resource
if you've found it once
you will find it again

nothing is truly static
you will outgrow people,
places, relationships
and that's okay to do

remember when times are tough
the only person you should trust
whom you can always rely on
is yourself

we all age, we all die
so make sure the people
you love know how you feel
because they will not always be there

it's okay to leave a situation
that makes you unhappy
that's not selfish
it's self-preservation

Adaptability owes you an apology.

For ensuring you adjust to life's turbulence.

For demanding you greet the bad day with a smile.

For declaring that you Must seek comfort

In your pain.

Who is he,
That made you believe
Your pain was worth less
Than the effort it would take to recover?

Adaptability is your poison;
Reclaim your emotion.

black lung whispered
abject terror in my ears
a circle of candles
and closed eyes
made plainly naked
by the thought of you
beneath the rising tide

i poured raw honey
down your abyssal throat
stole a different form
and fell into your arms
only sweet goodbyes
as i grabbed my overcoat

adapt
like a bird
building a nest
out of discarded newspaper

a small animal's bones
restructuring
readjusting
around the plastic rings
that once held soda cans

learn to stay put
if you were meant to fly
but find yourself
caged

adapt
change your body chemistry
alter your consciousness
to fit in
where you were not made to

I didn't want to be the one who left because she couldn't handle the change -- couldn't adapt.
But the truth is, I can't.
I hate writing this even now, knowing how it'll look when it comes out.
My aesthetics are dead.