Movement.

Moving forwards,
sitting backwards.
Always moving,
moving forwards,
trickling slowly on towards another fall.

So I melt into my seat and
the rolling hills swallow the train.

The deer watch me.
Small eyes follow the train,
who are they to judge.
The hills will get them too.
Run. They need to run.

Chase the train.
Chase something.

Running forwards.
Going backwards.
Break neck speed and,
always in the wrong direction.
The deer will watch me fall.

Spring-Summer

New flowers,
yet un-opened.
Days fall into days.
Ever changing buds that flourish in the spring.

Stripped away by idle,
hands as children amble home.

Pretty girls in,
small white dresses.
Snatched away from innocence by,
greedy hands that take what is not theirs.

What is nothing,
nothing any more.

Face Mask.

Currently I am wearing a face mask, clinging to the delusional stance that it will improve my skin. Sadly the effects will not be long lasting and before long I will need to purchase some more of said face mask. Vicious. Cynical. At least I am aware of my superficiality.

I wish I had a better face mask for my life.