When will the flowers bloom again?

I am coarse

While you are smooth

This wasn’t the way

It was meant to be

You seem to glide past

Like water off a duck’s back

While I am left

Trying to mend the broken pieces

Each piece a line

Where it all cracked,

A wholeness shattered

Into tiny islands of hurt

That can never be returned,

Careful now,

Not to make it even worse

To tread on

To cause even deeper gashes

On the soul.

But it is as it shall be,

I own all my pieces,

No denial under

The moonlit sky.

Beyond the veil

Of tears

When I see past

The pain

I know there is brightness.

What would it take

To heal?

For the flowers to bloom again

Wild and free.

For joy to return unfiltered.

Creativity and imagination

Beckon the broken

Past all reason and logic

Even when there is nothing

Just pure emptiness,

To give one hope,

A constant search

To stay sane

In a seemingly nonsensical

World,

The mind darts about

But the drum of the heart

Offers a rhythm

The body begs to

Feel it.