Lotus

i live for moments

when the sky gathers 

my broken body 

tenderly within its gentle embrace 

when ebony clouds entwine 

with shining, radiant stars 

hope is a thing with feathers, you say.

i met it, once.

it's repulsive.

grotesque.

hideous.

it sings too, apparently.

cawing loudly,

off-key,

at 3 o'clock in the morning.

stupid little trees 

speak to me 

through their whispering leaves 

they seem to grieve. 

stupid little clouds 

cry so damn loud 

through snow and rain 

I’ve been told,

That I have a gift for words,

Here lie the depressing thoughts,

I keep hiding in my metaphors

so no one guesses they're mine.

i was running.

because that’s all I could do.

run.

my dirty red converse slapped the pavement.

i was at the park now.

faster

faster i ran.

past tourists,

past benches dedicated to the lost,

The sky wears billowing gowns, layers

Upon layers of silk fluttering

With the breeze, and

She dances in it with ease, never

Tripping or stumbling but