I settle on a seat distant from the world and my life
Here I observe the souls of those overcome with strife
Settling on a bench sheltered with fallen flowers
from the shivers of trees recovering from nighttime terrors
Red plaid shorts damp beneath me
A book sprawled open on my lap watching with pure envy
as my eyes trace a phrase my mind is quickly trapped in
"its the truth even if it didn't happen"
I experience the sun blaze its rays down onto my thighs
Drawing crimson marks with my nails, I analyze
There's a strange sense of comfort in the burning sensation
The fear of not knowing what to expect consumes my self isolation
The unknown lingers in my mind, crimson now engrossed
I can always trust that the sunlight will never stop sizzling sunburnt skin
So instead of cursing the pain, I find it sublime
for it is the most secure I've felt in a long time
rewrite of a previous poem