Slowly, slowly
I feel my soft edges sharpen from the touch of the world
The warmth of my heart grow colder from the ugliness it feels in the cruelty of people
And when I feel these things I lock away the million things I have to do
and walk
Softly, softly
Into the sun and trees and breeze,
Find the love in humans,
The kindness of the world
And allow myself to be soft once again

The witch lay a curse on me,
with the last ragged shriek of breath.
Then, the flames took on an
altogether different smell,
and though she writhed against the fraying ropes,
there was no hope.
And as the goddess fried,
we held hands and sang
of a better time, in a better place.
I felt the moon shivering,
wracked with fear for when
the sun would shine.
When Venus would rise from the ashes,
a phoenix, and love would live again.

Soaring high...beautiful, proud and bold
Feathers of red and yellow and gold
Flying high, soaring, forever free
Her only purpose, just to BE

Brave of heart, strong and true
But the day would come, she always knew
When all peace and joy and hope would die
And like Icarus, she’d fall from the sky

No longer soaring the sky so blue
Bold and beautiful, strong and true
Buried in a blanket of ashes soft and gray
Nobody wanted her on Burning Day

Yet from those ashes was she reborn
To grace the sky again next morn
Flying high, soaring, forever free
Her only purpose, just to BE

I always thought of spring as a new beginning;
the start of something new or
the rebirthing of the fallen,
like flowers in bloom after the dead, cold winter

It's what you've always wanted—those cold
winter months are nothing but a buffer to you
and I, the unwitting victim, thought I could
ever be enough for you

But I'm no flower, I'm no spring
I'm not a beginning or a rebirth—
I am death, I am winter
I am the end and the endless void

I'm the buffer you only ever wanted to cling to
until the cold subsides, until you can
come back to your old life—
in my wake, there won't be a drop of tear

I realize that the time we have won’t be enough.
If you add all the moments up....
You have a lifetime that flashed by in the blink of an eye.
& Maybe if I can count all our moments together...
Instead I will have an eternity to share.
Today, I am 23 and tomorrow I shall be flowers arising.
I clench and whisper to myself to remember every detail.
Feeling the moments slipping.
As the way life arises into consciousness & then out to oblivion.
I am reminded that all of myself is only the parts in which I can recollect.
My mind the only bridge from meaningful to meaningless.
I pinch my crisp blue jeans in hopes that I can still feel that I exist.
I can feel my unmanicured nails piercing my skin through my jeans.
All in hopes of penetrating the impermanence nature of this moment.
The hourglass drips a grain of sand at a time.
Yet, it only takes a second for a desert to form.
Maybe on the edge of the world standing upon a desert I can find solace. 
Finding comfort instead of fear about where I end and the infinite begins.

Grief carves a part of your soul in its passing.
The gaping emptiness that fills you after its left.
Sweeps silently like wind passing through a leafless tree in the Fall.
The only difference their skin bares the truth of what they lost.
The labyrinth of a garden was to veil the corpses that it was buried on.
& it to dies with winter.
How nature teaches us to bear each loss.
But is it nature’s order to grow from despair?
Maybe I’d spent too much time picking flowers instead of watering them.