The cold grass breathes between my toes,
Life feels full and rich against a fiery sunset,
I can almost feel its warmth against my feet frozen on the ground.
Then I wait.
Not for something,
not for anything.
Within the soft breath of the life around me,
and then I can feel my own coming back.
The fullness of the beauty removes the worthlessness that stings me,
removes the hate that cuts into my soul,
slowly, surely.
A warmth that doesn't come from sunsets sets aside A coldness not from morn' dew,
and sadly it only sets it aside as if the warmth knows it won't be there forever,
as if it knows the moment I leave I will almost welcome the cold I'm so familiar with.
the thought makes warm tears streak down my face,
If only I knew, If only I could tell my self what I would be missing,
I plead I can.
Mikayla Bloomquist
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