There is always this flower,
Ever so beautiful, Ever so lovely.
A flower that grows just right for my soul;
But a flower in someone else's garden.

I'd water her,
Each time I passed her by.
She grows no thorns to my skin,
Delicate to her very core.

But as she is beautiful,
Often attract other passersby.
They too would try to nurture her;
And often too she would fall for them.

How could I even save a flower;
That was never mine in the first place?

-HIY

reminds me of you,
breathing life
into the trees.
rain drops
remind me of you,
nourishing flowers
and brightening grass.
you shine in the windows,
warming up someone’s soul,
waking up the passion of a soul.
you shower over souls,
cleaning them of dirt and sorrow.
 
you worked hard in the spring,
bringing life to decades of history,
passing down the jewels in your eyes.
you were relentless as a spring storm,
never stopping,
always nurturing the flowers in your life.
you payed close attention to the wilted,
the rotting, and the forgotten.
your gentle hands
healed the sick
and fed the hungry.
 
bright as sunlight,
you sung to those you loved,
knowing the importance
of saying those three words.
i always woke up happy to see you,
peeking in my windows,
and wrapping warm arms around
me when i was cold.
you baked me sweets,
marshmallows and peanut butter,
each bite warming my soul.
how could one ever be mad
at warmth that followed them
everywhere they went?

It is difficult to understand
What separates you and I,
Perhaps you reached, but found no hand,
There must be more than meets the eye.

Deep chasms line the spectrum,
Like cliff faced faultlines of distance where there's none,
One slight of step, a little momentum,
And into an abyss beyond reach of the sun.

By nature, we are much the same,
Despite the nurtured deception,
I refuse the notion that I should shame
Still watered ripples of my reflection.

Here we are
In a closet,
protected by intimacy.

This is not a reflection,
written on sand
nor a message
left on a mirror
by salient hands.

With a phrase
I will release you.
Into a room,
Without judgment, or breath.
Without a scream of worry,
Or an island of regret.

This is love without witness,
The most naked of vulnerabilities.
The self-seeking, all seeing periphery,
Truth.

Paper dreams
Im the fiend.

Among the thoughts inside my head
You tiptoe through and head to bed.

Oh, the dread.
It eats away all night and day.
No keeping it at bay for i have no say.

I never really did. Lead to believe i had a foot in the door but what more, what a bore. The things in store. A blink and a breath later and its in my mouth.

Bitter words and acid truth. The lies taste as sweet as they smell fresh from my oven.

Aroma carried far in the breeze. Pollinating your thoughts and breeding my children.

I live on through them. And yet they are false.

And so the question remains.
Am i still here?