April Cerise, In Memoriam
no one here
gets out alive
August 2013
i always wondered
the significance of seven,
or how it came into place.

you know when
the song ends?
it's the melody
that plays over and over again.

like a tune stuck in one's head.

when the first leaf falls,
who is there to catch it?
maybe no one,
but in part,
it's who receives it.

a bird flies high,
against wind and the elements;
rain is its natural bath,
more so than the same,
stagnant water found in
cement containers.

the first chill
and the first warmth
are the same in some ways;
yet it is different in many aspects.

the same knife that cuts
open a wound,
can sometimes open
that which heals.

time is but essence
it's when things open
that it becomes timeless.

eyes of fear
fear not that of danger.

closing doors
open windows;
no one gets out of here alive.

here is temporary.
the same old song and dance
is temporary.

forever rings on
like bells.

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