warm and fuzzy intervals

Mother nature is taking its toll
crumpling the paper
and turning it into sprouts
attach
to this pen
hang on the edge

I just want to lay face down
on the wet grass
my mind is full of delusions,
and there is no proof of the love,
or a continuation,
or any resolution
a reunion of the same

colorless
confused feelings

I push you from my mind,
only to still feel you in the room

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