M. Hank

Sickly sweet,

Your words touch my prefrontal cortex

Like soft burning snow.

Your touch tastes sweeter

Than ice cream

On a humid sun-streaked day.

You,

Frost-borne by the north wind,

Author Bio: I wrote "Take Me Away," when I felt swamped with a growing list of things to do. It made me miss the days, in the pandemic when I’d run around the backyard, screaming “I’m bored!”

You hope for my demise,
but I refuse to fall.

You push me,
but I refuse to stay down.

You want to see me broken,
but I refuse to give you the satisfaction.

Thank you for the warmth of the sun against my skin in summer.

Thank you for the leaves that fall in autumn.

Thank you for the fluffy snow that covers the ground in winter.

Thank you for the flowers that bloom in spring.

hope is a messy thing.

it destroys all forms of happiness.

but it lifts you up in your worst nightmares.

I wish I could say hope is for everyone.

but it isn't.

in time,

we evolved into 

racist,