evanescence xii
"spring is a
rebirth," they say.
spring is like death.
you can feel it first in the fall-
that feeling of life.
while the leaves are falling and
plants are dying,
leaving their crumpled corpses
in your path, your head clears
along with the bare branches.
everyone is dying, collapsing
into their smaller selves,
sealing themselves inside-
I can't believe they don't
suffocate.
alone in the crisp, frigid mornings,
your breath crystallizes, your
wits sharpen, your mind opens
like the open air above and around you.
there's the stillness, the silence, then
you,
filling it all with your life and color
as the snow filters down
through the trees
like your thoughts.
it's clear,
it's bright,
and this is living.
then the white days begin to
slip away from you;
the plants are popping up,
stuffing the landscape full of themselves.
a frantic air takes over, and suddenly
people are in love,
blossoms are blooming,
everyone's awoken and you-
you-
stuck in the midst,
lost and confused in all the
noise and the rush,
clarity gone.
the fact that there are people about
makes you lonelier than you had been
and there are so many things
just there, crowding in close,
pressing in around you.
it's dizzying, suffocating
like the people stuffed in their
too-hot houses in
the winter.
the winter makes you come alive.
spring crushes the spark that was there.
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