warm and fuzzy intervals

Mother nature is taking its toll
crumpling the paper
and turning it into sprouts
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

confused feelings

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