dead bees.

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@mxqqy

Sunshine swallowed
by cloud.

Precious words, pilling
behind pursed lips.

Feel the warm autumn wind
on your cheek until he turns
and brushes your knee.

Then you blossom and
fall, simultaneously.

Learn to gift your auburn
to the sky, only for it to be
washed away by the very
last bouts of summer rain.

At least today is no longer
stained by the shades of
a repetitive same.

Seeds of hope, they grow
in the cracks left by past hurt,
and you find yourself surrounded
by the familiar buzz of may-bees,
could-bees and potentialities.

But then you blink and remember
how to breathe and suddenly
you can see the way his kindness
comes in spades but cuts deep
into the soft soils of vulnerability.

He uproots importance
like untamed (we)eds, and these
unplanted questions swallow
like a liquidated naivety and
sinking self-esteem.

Tonight,
forget-me-knots in stomach tangles
into throat and a thristled heart
quietly bleeds.

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the willows, they

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Image courtesy of: vurdeM

creep up pale cheek,
whisper about me
behind the teeth.
tendrils burying into scalp,
snapping the neck back
into vulnerability.

some say these soft,
phantom weeds, born
of the mind can be easily
exterminated through a wish
to be free, clearly they have
forgotten, we are no more than
lost children of Eden,
searching for meaning.

Inexplicable sadness
carried by the wind,
germinates into a dull ache,
sprouting dissociation as fresh roots
wrap around the ribcage, bitter,
beating heart numb to the bites of
venomous, verminous thoughts,
they have a stronger desire for life
than I can muster, no more than
a careless cadaver,
caught in the headlights.
A poor little flower-bed,
drowned in homemade herbicide.