God's Tears

I have recurring false dreams
where I find myself
to be the daughter
of winter.

Blood made of snow,
glacier shoulders,
polar bones,
just as tough
as the rocks of hail.

I, numbing the bites
by the frost of winds
piercing teeth.

I must possess
the power of waves.
I shall interfere
with the velocity of
roaring melancholy.

What have I turned into?
Am I the reason why gods tears
gives everyone rain?

​

Seasonal Depression

I stare at the autumn leaves
As we are both brittling
at the seams.

“You used to be full of magnolias,
now you look like a willow tree”

When will my peak
return to its vitality?

Frostbites clothed on me
from winter's savage teeth.
I’ll put on long sleeves

to cover the sored blues
accompanied with plum bruises

Would they still care?
If my luminosity

has shriveled
and rusted.

Will someone put gloves on me?
Like an infant who needs mittens.

Reborn

​

I hold myself
with a care of a roo
through every bridge
my heart clouds.

A flood warning has arised
through the glass
of my thundered eyes.
Dirty rain streams
down my flushed cheeks.

It leads a pathway
onto my pale rose lips,
it invades my tongue,
leaving a bitter taste
of mourn.

When heavy thoughts
and sore feelings intertwine
I will always be caught
in the state of a dog's mind
wondering when’s their birthday.

I dig abandoned graves
with broken shovels,
keeping an eye open
for scattered ashes
glistening in aquatic oceans.

I am living in the pit
of bargains stomach
trying to find a being
who was never lost,
nor found.