Euphoria bursts in blinding flashes all over my nerves, starting as fireworks and crescendoing into a feeling not unlike the emotion that follows after diving into a cold, refreshing pool during the first day of summer, and leaving me with the scent of freedom that can only be found in the warm, yet somehow chilly winds of spring.
My blossoms are beginning to unfurl, in a hue that I've only experienced in dreams and drugged states of mind.
Somehow, it's different this time, as though these beautiful babbling brooks will not dry up like last summer.
I throw caution to the wind, and let it fly away like a young sparrow leaving the nest, and I submerge myself forever.
My love, if you just so happen to stumble across these poems, I hope you can understand my sweet summer songs, no matter how bitter and rotted they may seem, they yield nought but new growth and the promise of a new bloom for all someday.
