As the months go by

The plants will die just to live

All over again

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I want to write about something beautiful

Like the leaves of a tree glowing from the sun's reflection

Or the feeling of a warm breeze on your cheeks

But I think the best poets

Live in the dark

Is it true?

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I look for poems that are pieces of me

Broken mirrors

Scattered in books

Sharp enough to cut

But at least I can see my reflection

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Every night I reel myself out of drowning waters

Thoughts flooding

Body weakening

It's time to rest

To the bottom I sink

Where my dreams await

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