Even in the tiniest parts of Creation
everything begins with a dream...

...

I keep telling myself, you are in control.
But Winter, why do you always cut me off whenever...

I keep holding onto your daisies,
even though I should have planted...

No one would ever imagine the
waves of terror and raw emotion...

You lift my heart upon blurry horizons,
keeping in touch with my reminiscence...

How can I find complaints
coated in your smile...

The choices I have made, this one in particular,
will not grant me any reprieve...

I just want to go, quietly -
to make my exit as swift and painless...

Today, I woke up to a post preaching
about how people like me shouldn't be...

I never accepted the sunrise because each heave...
would only burden me with flashbacks of light...

You are - scent, a world with roulettes of mists...
sweetness but hold mysteries...