I keep feeling
Like I’m supposed to be waiting for something
Like I forgot to call someone
Or reply to a text
Like I have to say good night to someone
Perhaps I forgot to say good morning

But I haven’t talked to anyone
And there’s nothing I needed to do
Yet every time that feeling comes back
I think it’s because of you

Frost caught up
to ghostly fingers;
His December walks
filled dark prophecies,
would he witness
another year
or a month?

In the deep snow,
he knew the answer.

The Necromancer told him,
in her underworldly dreams,
he had once been her true love.
He smirked:
I’m still here
in your words.

i always have
the urge to run.

but what is it like
to be a tree?

to be confident enough
to root yourself
and grow with
wild abandonment,
being unapologetically
you?

i'm still running,
but i wish i knew.