b years

i am not drunk

look

it’s just that the flowers hold no colours

for night

leaving loneliness to bloom

with those things left still unsaid

since the time of creation

where even then in closed eyed nothingness

i missed you

and couldn’t see you growing up

into that beautiful woman

who would

ask more questions for that was the answer

who would

find longing in the pebbles and star-stuffed sand

who would

one day go wherever it is in that place

where i didn’t go

like the snow now

breathing back into the world

a scent of my piss-poor courage

that tries to drown everything

in a territorial roar

yet only manages to miss on myself

as a little bit of it all

but still

not enough

for you