Do you hear?
The wind sings a song
of new moons.
Do you hear?
The wind sings a song
of new moons.
Just cut my tongue when
the ghosts of little goodbyes
feels like freezing air.
The little terrors
have entered my mind again —
they are scaring me.
The moths fly at night
when the air is filled with warmth
and the lights glimmer.
Something is missing
the chimes have an empty ring,
the wind is hollow.
The leaves, quivering
on a branch all but barren
the wind starts to howl.
Put trust in yourself
as in a bird trusts its wings
as feathers trust wind.
In your atmosphere
I became a meteor
burning out quickly.
Plane descending
my whole world turns into clouds
fog crawls on the ground.
A dream, a yearning
to feel functional again
amidst a sinking.