Rosepathfading

We walk the brisk winter field,
following the steps of those before us.
I doff my aired out mask,
and inhale the frosty draft.
The animate cold greets the roof of my mouth
and travels through my throat.

Sometimes I put my fingers together and stretch them
As long as I can, and see the biggest shape I can make
Stretch my joints until satisfaction.
My linked bones holding that shape warmly.

But recently I thought,

I have a thing
You could say I own it
The "grandmas ugly urn" of my heart
Don't want it and never did
Always looking for a solution, a way to get rid of it
But yet,
Whenever I check its still there in me

a hole in your world
banging hard
cry out
denied of safety
evil mistress
fails to fly
gets torture
hail the queen
i want to help
joker poker
killing mostly
love is fake
many casualties
no mercy

is our world big enough?
for all the feelings were feeling?
they are so strong
and dirt and stone are weak

is the world deep enough?
for all our hard long questions?
they are so necessary
but they feel so overwhelming

Today I feel like a bee.
My clothing matches that,
Yellow shirt
Black skirt and leggings.
But I feel my brain matches that too,
Confused about what to say,
what to do,
just gently buzzing around.
But what is my pollen?