And We Turn to Mulch

Exploring my insecurities
In bright oranges and yellows,
That were once mellow blues and cool greens.

My energy,
Swirling around
Like leaves on pavement in autumn,
Intertwined with a strong dream.

Opening my eyes and
Seeing only steam.

And sometimes I can hear her secrets…
She whispers softly in my ear
How she longs to scream out her red and,
Though I am open minded,
Autumn will always become winter.

And the white,
“Pure” snow that will fall
Will stifle the leaves,
Will stifle them all.

And vibrant greens,
Turn to yellows,
Turn to brown.
And then they are mulch,
Sinking back to the ground.

And, oh, how we wish to be mulch.
Letting the dirt
In through our eyes.

Clearing the steam,
Reclaiming our bodies,
Reclaiming our souls.

And we turn to mulch.

And we turn to mulch.