My home is fleeting
I'm 15 years old
The smell of the pavement when it's rainy and cold
No neighbors like Abbie
Can keep me alive
Unless they're up for
That half hour drive
Close your mouth for once, let me speak
Loss is for the strong, not the weak
But I'm not strong
I'm not worthy
I won't get what I want
Remember what's taught
Placed in front of me
Was the intimidation of the darkest deepest ravine
Standing on the plateau
My knees bend backwards
And I feel the release through my chest
What is given away is unknown but heavily missed
As I watch it diffuse throughout the air
And roses budding in the clouds
My tongue curls and rids all taste of prior knowledge
Taking in the new taste of floral atmosphere
My ears hear the collapsing of old buildings
I pick up the debris and feel it between my palms
My nose lifting up the remains of what was once new
Now old
Condensation from old writings lifting their way to other galaxies
Hopefully
I exhale satisfaction
I don't know what is coming
But I know it is new
And that's all I could ask for
Welcome to the orchard