A Question

Isn't it funny how

a moment before

you could not feel your lips

and now, 

in a second, 

they're vibrantly alive.

Isn't it curious how

what seemed like forever

was a split time frame

that

didn't

even

last

a 

day?

The thoughts are tumbling 

through my mind

like a wave crashing

and circling down into the sand.

My breaths are caught like a hit

in the gut,

and the fear of never being able to 

breathe again

strikes

me

down

in

a

constant.

I blinked.

My lips parted.

As a question. 

Without 

an

answer.

Sometimes Goodbye Doesn't Have to Last

The flower you hold so delicately
has thorns on its stem as it is not so fragile.
The way you caress the satin petals
is as though it will fall through your fingers like sand.
The same fingers that pulls through your hair
as a habit.
But the moment will come when the petals will wilt
and the thorns will grow weak.
And your hands will drop
this limp plant
and it will lay by your feet,
fallen.
But memories last
and the silk that you felt
will linger
hesitantly.

The flower you held so closely
with the thorns that broke your skin
will always reside withing you.
You'll brush your hair
with the same gentleness
that stroked those simple petals.
But there will be another.
With more vibrant colours.
Striking petals.
A stem with less thorns.
A stem without a weight on its shoulders.

But maybe the goodbye to the flower with an ethereal glow
Is not a different greeting other than that of 'Hello'.