I Worry My Tears Do Not Return To Earth - Blog Posts

i am so consumed

fern clover and birch can not pull me from my place in the thick of the bog

although they do try.

i lay prone, unprotected and powerless to stop sinking.

to each little blue flower who dots around my eyes and corners of my mouth,

i whisper, “bring me back to life

help me breath in air once again

help me wake up,

please.”