If I can just escape today
And hide in tomorrow
Maybe hope can find a way
To free me from the horror
Birthed in the cycles
Monsters my eyelids
Can't blink away
Monsters that make my nightmares
Feel safe
Sometimes my dreams feel glassy
But can't break
They reflect my passion
I try not to hate
Especially in the seasons
Of evil days
When persevere
Is so demanding

And there are seasons
I may, underrate
Seasons of sadness
I may, over-contemplate
Seasons of writing
I try, to overcompensate
For whatever joy
I'm lacking.

Eitherway, I'm either
Under the weather
Or over it, altogether
The calm beneath
The thunder
Or the calm obliviously
Above it

Most times
I let the storm pass
Hide behind the bruised trees
That will grow again
In future storms cast
By the rainbow-clad wizard
That slumbers in the lightning

If weather was placed on the table
To touch it, would be frightening
And yet somehow
Its changing hues
Would remind me
Of how inner seasons
Will always likely
Shape my decisions
Sometimes blur
My vision
Make it harder
For me to listen

To listen to the wind
My worries can't catch
Guide me through the storm
And guide me back
To the land of seasonless winds
Where my smile is a blade
Whose massacre
Sings
With or without blood
Where fear can taste my steel
Run through its cold and dark
Spine
As it runs, looking for seasons
To hide
In
Tomorrow
Where Hope
It hopes
Has died

Until the cycle begins