izz_midnight

With an ending, 

Comes a new beginning. 

A constant cycle of rebirth, 

an eclipse of emotions. 

I want to hold 

Both a pen and a sword, 

To find struggle within my words, 

To make pain drip from the ink, 

Trickling onto my palms, 

Spring is a blossom crushed 

Unbeknownst to you, in your clammy palm. 

It’s a season made of glass, 

Fragile, disintegrating 

Like the April showers filling 

Cracks in the pavement. 

This isn't a "see you in three months"

Because I'm not coming back

This isn't a "goodbye for now"

At least not all the goodbyes are that temporary,

This is a "I'll be back on Alumni day"

When you languidly grazed hands with a Woman, 
had you seen your reflection in Her irises? 
Had you wished you could drown in that yearning black void? 

On a rocky cliff 

where the grass sways in the wind 

and the sky never seems to end, 

there lies a silent house  

where a silent woman lives. 

She does not need to speak;