Acer Sacharrum

and the pale pink is fading from the morning sky

the same way the words from the song i sang about you

under my misty-cold breath

died on my lips. i wonder if i would've waited forever,

As you reach the end of the hallway, you notice someone behind you. They have their hands full, and they appear to be in a good mood. They are six feet away, and there is no one following them.

The icy Penobscot wind cut through me like a blade as I stared at the crow, now just a crumpled shadow in the snow. My dad’s shot had silenced its call, and it lay there, broken and defeated, a symbol of my own helplessness.

Perfect, as golden long hair and light blue eyes
perfect, as a light complexion, as she is as graceful as a bird flies.
perfect, as cute as a doll.
But this, may not be perfect for some at all.

Brazil, the year forgotten. The sun is rising. 

The ocean longs for her beloved moon but she has already gone down. The sun has taken her place and the water finds no comfort in him.