My Angst

My angst roams in 
The nothingness of 
Shadows long gone

Melancholia becomes
A souvenir 
In my quill

In the sky's silence
I hear the whisper
Of falling blossoms

Butterflies loiter
On quivering leaves
Luminescing 
Tangerine
Honeydew scents

My blood rushes red
Pushing effervescent 
Into pages framed 

A keyboard becomes 
A lifelong friend

My fingers could 
Never get fatigued 
From writing 

Tears become words
I won't know if you have heard


I breathe into a 
constellation born 
In the blue of my quill.