long for your presence
my needles smell like christmas
forever pining
once,
she did too
laying on clouds
she braided the sunlight
drenched in ray-ban reflection
her easy breathing rustled the weeping willows
down below.
then,
clouds turned gray
she had never met rain before
he stole her youth
made damp her smile.
now,
she sleeps on her back
constantly looking for her
sunshine.
“i’m too tired and stressed by random outside factors when all i really need to do is focus on the internal.” — a wise woman