Was that it?
The moment we’ll remember
The rest of our lives?
That long, first real talk?
When we really met each other?
Was that it?
The moment we’ll tell our children
About when they ask how we met?
Will I see you again?
Could both of our lives be changing
From that one conversation?
I don’t know.
But just the possibility
Is so beautiful.

Blossom with love and courage into the spring,
that is unalike the one before it, but none the less
full of growth and the sweet scent
of possibilities

Blossom in the light of positivity
for you have carried too much sadness
and cradled too much fear. Aren’t you tired?

Bloom
like all things on earth bloom
Flower into your next life, naturally
unfold

Fluorescence is your call
tenderly guiding you wild flora
into the fauna where you belong
You too are that, which came from earth
and grows from light

Winter beckons a spring,
and it’s your turn wild flora.

now that i am older,
i am faster,
stronger,
braver,
now that i am older,
i am wittier,
prettier,
probably,
possibly,
definitely,
shitier,

i can help it now i am older,
i will continue to get older,
till i am frail,
pale,
meek,
made obsolete,
they just want to press delete,
i am a burden to the nation of youths,
so wide-eyed and bushy tailed with determination,
endless possibilities,
that will come to an end,
because,
like me,
you will get older,
i promise like me,
pale and meek and obsolete,
someone somewhere,
will press delete.

Time spent in obsessive contemplation
Of infinite paths of infinite ifs.
How many if only buts today alone?
I could be infinitely different.

My head hurts, my soul is so uncertain.
I’m this, and not infinite other ifs.
I am from mistakes of pure carelessness,
I am random intentional choices.

My world is what it is, but is that all?
What remains of other infinite ifs?
I have memories of worlds that weren’t,
Of worlds that might be infinitely worse.

There is an unknown me inside of me,
Who pursued some other infinite ifs.
And yet, what if I chose right every time?
What if that unknown me is also me?

Do you feel it when
Your mind is drifting to
Someone other than
The one you’re talking to?
I ignore it as often
As I think I can possibly do
But do you realize the space
Captured in my head by you?
I know not what to call this
It’s breathable and new.
I do not want to spoil this
Fearing what it’ll turn into.
The paranoia of losing it
Is what I’ve already grown into.
Conservative, feeble, shy?
Call me whatever you want to.