I never liked summer.

Not as a child.

Huddled by a fireplace,
no shirt and a short just a mere 5 year old,
Begging the flames to give me the warmth I crave.

I never liked summer.

Maybe it was the silence,
The empty walls,
The way life seemed to move on without me.

I never liked summer.

Winter had always been kinder,
Bringing people closer,
Wrapping me in a cold I understood,
and loved.

But then you said,
"Summer is my favorite season."
And winter lost its warmth.

The snow felt sharper,
The fire distant.
And summer— Summer became the heat of your voice,
The glow of your presence,
The warmth I never knew I needed.

what I once clung to as a dreamland,
fades away in the world of you.

With nothing but your words,
You rewrote my thoughts and bent my beliefs.

I felt every stubborn inch of myself crumble accept it's fate,
that even your lies become my truth,

and your beliefs are mine to carry

Here among giants,
Beauty so unrequited,
I could not return the pleasantry
A beast walking through your pageantry
Hoping to get lost in the foliage,
Somewhere between the shade of a canopy
And the gleaming beans of the sun’s cleaning rays,
I am a needy lover, and you give all that I need

Endlessly.

***** me in roughage,
Tatter the canvas,
And muddy my boots
I am immersed like a cocooning pupa
Waiting for the day you let me bloom
Become the moth you choose
To run circles around
Chasing your bewildering light.

Endlessly.

Tourniquet my brokenness
With a few vines and thorns to close the openness
I stress, that I could never repay your comforting
A nursing cradle, while I nap within the quiet zephyrs
Or rush with paddles down your tumultuous streams
Engulfed in the showers of waterfalls,
Searching over cliffs to the sky horizon
Indigo ombre to deepen purples
Counting diamonds that dress you up
As the moon spotlights your highlights
I can rest here, forever and -

Endlessly.

I'm not a poet
Don't speak the language

Death follows (a lantern-lit, moss-draped carriage)
Offers me a ride (so kind)
But it's not my time (for—for;
give me,
get me)

I'm not a tortured soul
Just trying to be understood

Please? Won't someone save me?
(Where—
oh
where—
am... I?)

I'm just writing on this journey to the end

Snowflakes fall, a silent lullaby,
Blankets of white beneath twilight sky,
Bare branches etched in frost’s sigh,
Cold winds weave through the night,
Stars alight, crisp and bright,
Warm fireside light,
Frozen plight,
Deep night,
Still.

dark hair, darker nights
the winter solstice draws us
together again

A leaf
In the gentle autumn breeze
Softly falls to Earth,
Together with its siblings
It lines the woodland path.

The ground below is cold but soft,
Still sensing the September sun,
Not yet has winter’s icy breath
Been felt, not yet its reign begun.

The creatures of the forest
Patter to and fro,
Their feet and wings stirring the leaves
On the ground below.

By comes a fox, takes careful watch,
Then vanishes from sight,
By comes a robin, plucking berries
And then, once more, takes flight,
By comes a squirrel, in its search
For nuts it takes delight,
And finally, by comes the owl,
Waiting for the cloak of night.

The leaf, still lying on the ground,
Is eager for another day
But then, by comes a gust of wind
And carries it away.