Jan 4 2015

Like a flower on the neglected side of a mountain

Waiting, but not wilting

Withering and shivering in the thin air

Deprived of what it never knew it could want

Like a flower

But not a flower

For a flower has no wants, only needs

No matter where is grows

A flower will always spread its seeds

(and that is hope)

Breathing too little

Air too thin

Lungs too small

Slight tremble as she holds the page of her will

The one she wrote after a long walk

Emotionless as the words that flow

Death is never too far and she is never too careful

Death is never too careful

She is never too far

Faint as she thinks of the great sadness within her

The one that she suppresses until the tea goes sour

When the bath runs cold

Until the stars disappear


Of when the sun bursts and space takes it back


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