izz_midnight

warmth,

pumpkin spice lattes

hot, spice-soaked coffee drizzled with a splash of cinnamon

coated with half-melted whipped cream, nestled by the delicate fire,

comfort,

your favorite cardigan

I can't describe this feeling 

It's one I've never known

But I know that it feels bad

And I can feel it in my bones

It's a distinct emptiness 

But not a hole or void

You love to paint.

You teeter on the line between

Hedonism and Asceticism

with every move of your fingers

each shape you make in the clay

The spring rain comes down

In warm droplets

Soaking through my gown

My bare feet splash in the puddles

The power of the rain making me feel humble

I want to drink apple cider with you 

Like it’s a fine wine, 

Make-believe adult, wrapped in your wool blanket, 

Counting the minutes until your parents return.