When most things cease to matter one day
and everyone is on the brink
of breaking down,
I'll just rely on the sun
to keep my vision clear
and my hands warm,
be calmed by the rustling of the leaves
swaying in the wind
with the scent of pretty flowers
in the air,
I'll just walk barefoot
on the rich soil of the earth
and each day
reap what I sow,
not bothering to pick up
the fragments of a blistering, burdening
life I left behind
because once a star has exploded,
you can't gather its dust
and try to put it back together again
I'll just drink
from the cool, clear- blue sweet spring
near the field where
the water pump used to be, now all
cracked, rusted, and faded
it's funny how I can't seem to
feel any lingering remorse or sadness
over the familiar things
we've all lost,
maybe they just never were
familiar to me
I'll just hike up a grassy, flowery field
nothing but the wind
whispering into my ear and brushing
against my cheeks
that are tear-free and tinted pink
and oh, will you look at that,
no contacts or glasses to clear my vision
because the sunset in the horizon
between the valley of
the blue, white crested mountains
and the endless expense of twinkling starry night skies
are for everyone to see
and for some reason, I don't care anymore
about being alone,
there is so much more spirit to just
appreciating everything
you have,
with nothing to represent except life
and no purpose to fulfill except for living with open eyes
and a clear mind,
I'm too overwhelmed
to ever feel alone ever again,
to ever question my place in this universe.

The dirt shifts under me,
My head laying back into the soft ground.
Situated on a small patch of brown,
Isolated from the world of flowers surrounding me.

It’s dark where I lay,
From here I can see the moon.
Bright and colourful resides outside of my patch,
Despite the trees in the suns wake.

I lift my arm to the sky,
Reaching for the moon.
A tattoo across my wrist formed by a fine blade,
reveals a sea of red from my outstretched palm.

My vision blurs and the world hazes,
I reach to pull the moon away and reveal the sun.
But the thatch work above me holts my progress,
Beneath it I am never to see the sky.

I long to breach this sky of branches...

I'm blooming.
This path, I've chosen it myself;
And though your footsteps are still fresh in my garden,
And I still see your siluette in the moonlight,
I shall not let the memories define me.

The grass once stomped, will recover.
Your shadows are slowly fading.
No more will I let your darkness grow in my heart.

I'm letting go, and I'm blooming.
The breeze relaxes me instead of sending shivers down my body,
Instead of reminding me of your cold winds, orbiting my neck.
Slowly pressuring it in the darkness.

Until the red sun rises, and the sounds of the darkness and solitude quiet down. Until the cherry blossom wakes up again. Until my rotten flowers die and they get replaced by new ones.

Until then, I'll be waiting.

I'll be waiting,

Until I bloom.