i once cherished to a flower with care,
Watching it bloom, its scent would suffuse the air.

But as time passed, i grew bored, weary,
And stopped your care, not fully there.
As the days went by, the scent waned,

Just like that, the flower was gone.
Now you yearn for the fragrance you once ignored,
And crave the care you let pass, forever more.

"Ummm... I like you," she said,
her voice a trembling whisper.
Beads of sweat glistened on her brow,
breath uneven,
her heart pounding like fragile thunder.

She stood in quiet stillness,
anticipation pooling in her eyes,
her gaze fixed,

And then, I felt it—
a rush of warmth blooming in my chest,
nerves tangling with wonder,
as if her words were rewriting my very being.

For a moment, time stood still—
and that was when
I felt spring in the winter.

Strange,

how I crave love
and deny it too.

Why the flowers
start to wilt the moment
they start to bloom.

How the warmth
of a fire in winter and the pain
of getting burned remind
me of you.

I long to be silent in silence,
so that a magnolia tree may bloom in my mind,
warmed by the hands of God.

Nakedly bottled.
Capturing bursting seasons
here and now.

Life, delicate in its notes,  
the top notes,
lithe as youth,
citrus and bloom,  
ever briefly,
recondite pleasure,
a suppliance of time
a rush that fades away.  

Heart notes,
the flesh of our days, unfold—  
warm spices, florals, deeper and continues to exude as winter winds careless breath.

In the middle years, the scent sits and blares and mellows—a steady pulse of sandalwood and musk.  

Sultry as the scent may have lingered,
flirtatious colors in the breeze’s hair
the base notes come,
the earthier tones,  
amber and resin,
heavier on the air,  
decays a final wisp
until faint on the skin.

A memory is born.

And just like how
wisteria bloom and flourish
in the unbeknownst shadows of spring,
your once befooled heart
shall also find it's way.

look at the night sky.
see how the stars move,
and the moon changes.

growing and shedding.
cyclical
and never stagnant.

i want to be the same.
moving
and growing.

i am trying to mimic the moon.
but how can someone so limited,
achieve such growth?

how can i endure the loss
and still wait for the bloom?

I know I'll miss these times once they're sung
The days are busy when they're so young
Little ones that pull on skirts,
Teeny ones held in your shirt

Selflessness we must meet, in order to be built
Recline in the sun's heat, spring flowers bloom and wilt

Everything in its time, these moments will pass
Change another bedsheet, sacrifice and submit
Slow and let your eyes meet, let these sweet moments sit
Everything in its time, these moments will pass

A love so natural, it will not be ignored
It flurries us to higher places and with the air it swings
A love so natural, it demands to be poured
So deep it actually aches, singing sweetly while it stings

Offenses laughable, their silly peccadillos I secretly smile at
Yet they are teachable, I'll raise them to face the world and evil to combat

Innocent little transgressions
My dearest little possessions
I rebuke, I correct, the love goes on, I'll cherish our time while here
Time feels ensconced, but with the dawn, our time will have disappeared