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where am I going
I do not know
What do i want
All i feel is woe

Am i a fiery warrior
Or a pretty princess
Am i soft poetry
Or something unknown to me

What are my goals
I can't figure out
What's my dream
All i feel is doubt

Am i a free spirited owl
Or a early morning rooster
Am I the reds and oranges of autumn
Or the blooming spring of freedom

I do not know what defines me
Or who I am
But when someone laughs
Or there is happiness
I feel a spark
Inside this lost heart
No idea who i am but yeah
A frost had already settled late that night
Into the tenth hour, when most would be sleeping
All was quiet and cold on the front
When the stars presented themselves, you presented yourself to the sky
I imagine as gracefully as sunrise
Quiet and unsuspecting,
it sprang on us like an early spring

When winter turns to spring
and daisies push their way through the dirt
when the transition is done
I'll think of your fight to push through life, yet open yourself up
just as flower petals open to this world
Even though you passed in winter, spring will remind us of you
After a harsh winter, spring will be there to guide us,
whether we've made peace with the season,
whether we're ready and however early
We'll pick daisies to take you with us on this spring's journey
01/23/19

For my dear Aunt, who passed away earlier this month. She was 39, but had a long fight with Cystic Fibrosis. Her favorite flowers were daisies :)
Spring nights know no dawns
      Winter dead and gone
fights of house cleaning
                seeing isn't believing

A spring child born
     enduring such hardships
though it head filled will knowledge
         knows no bounds
or bonds
Jules 1d
Pollockesque birdshit
Dangles from bus shelters and clouds:
Beauty unnoticed.
Yuki 1d
A bruised body
doesn’t hurt as much as
a shaking soul
and trembling heart.
It’s the winter in me.
My ice-covered mind
is too cold to think properly
and my hands so frozen
aren’t able to
reach out and hold
spring.
when the  rivers green early in the morning of obscure season fountain up to weave the clouds blue, and the roses rouge give the arrayed passengers solemn hello, mild adores from Narcissus and lilacs make wild grass rhythmically flew,
when sun spatter gold ness to heart of people coming through
and  humid on petals remnant from past night rain shrewd  
to  make the robust mountain shine under occasion to give the blinking eyes clue
I will let myself to think upon you.
considering our doings during years like ghost forlorn comes and go
while it is neither spring nor summer day that smooth breeze opening the door to bid the winter’s storm out…out…
memories long, long… breaks out by strong typhoon, so…
I would be persuaded to assess:  my hard-hearted angle, on some occasions, maybe it is possible to forgive you!
after you moved out

i cleaned my house

top to bottom

i rid it

of every little thing

you threw away

here

i found pieces of myself

that now bear your name

etched deep

a permanent reminder

of you


some things i could not bring myself

to burn

those i locked away

up in my attic

invisible to my mind's eye

yet there nonetheless


now others walk through my house

wondering how lonely

i must be

but i have long needed

living space

for myself


so as i sit here

just my thoughts and

me

i cannot help but wonder

what did i leave

in your house?
Are they frozen tears?
Or are they just ornaments;
Crystalline ice that forms her
Columnar Tulip
Encased in her dripping tears
She will breathe again
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