It's Autumn now.
Coffee beans are the scent of life.
She finds herself flowing into the wind
Yet she knows she won't find what she's looking for.
The breeze feels like a distant memory
because it's soft and timid like her childhood.
Sometimes she talks to trees.
Maybe it's because she feels they're listening.
Unseen ears, and mind, and soul
absorb her feelings and hear her story well enough.
But they don't answer
when she's stuck at a crossroads.
and so she decides to run down
the middle path of indecisiveness.
And as she runs, she is greeted
with a sweet and sour dose of unreality.
her eyes are hearing and her ears are seeing
and she finally realizes that that fiery feeling in her heart is anger dispelling;
and the hurt and the pain are buried so deeply
even she isn't quite sure where they are.
