Spring opens up
something more
than the sunlight
through my heavy curtains
It creates new life
where there used to be ash

And that's what we do
getting rid of the old
to welcome the new

And we make do,
with every intake of breath
just for our lungs to have felt
more than rusty and dusty
old anxieties and panic and hurt
and to feel the new air
we grant ourselves

Because life doesn't end in winter
'cause humans persist
against the cold sharp glass of pain
just to see with their eyes
all the goodness and the warmth
and the happiness and the people
that we love and embrace with our souls
reconnecting and recognizing
ourselves in them

The birds speak of a kindred soul
One that basks in the afterglow
of a solemn moon lingering in the daylight

and you watch as nights go on
the way it changes phases
falling in love with the idea
of embracing the volatility of life

real as it is

she incurs the rigours

on her own in a void

far removed from rationality;

out of her element


esoteric whims float in and out

of her headspace;overruled

inexplicable visions,holographs;

phantoms from a past

seemingly remote

overshadow her mindscapes

Even in a situation I had once or twice,
begrudgingly dreamed myself in,
never anticipating the morphing from one state to another,
of contemplation to reality,
I no longer dread.

Even within the month that usually drags me to my knees,
I accomplish the impossible and turn my sight towards the sun,
golden hour still exists and dust still sways in its light.

And yes,
even with all of this,
unrequited circumstance,
my mind and body still dance.