The spring winds come to blow the left over leaves that fall had previously left.
There seems to be less of muse, I wanted to be the muse, tied up on strings, dangling in all my glory. I felt my flesh crawl, and my heart beat harder as I walked alone. I felt the ground linger around my feet, weeping because I couldnt move on it like it wanted. I couldnt feel it like I could before, and it was so cold, harsh, and blew me away and all I did was run. The concept of running never crossed my mind. I grew up crooked and always in and out love. Blinded because some times spit burns.
I built up to this, everything i planned out went accordingly and shocked me. Maybe this is a storm that passes over fast. And my feelings are some thing of folk lore. Even the sun cant press its cheeks against mine. I'm on fire, dipping out of sleep and have the most horrible ideas piercing my sides. The most tender parts.
Tomorrow lands a new mission. Struggling with myself, and wrestling with some future I cant grasp fully. Im going to watch the season grow tired. I'm going to lay in the damp grass and close my eyes to die with the stars.
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