Hello Spring, didn’t see you since last year. Did you miss me? I’m joking, sorry for the jest.
I know I have changed, and I am a mess. I lost my virtue to a new cocktail before bed.
This year, you came as me with no fancy dress, wet eye sky in black, and a more bleak hue
than the green trail I am used to at this address. I liked it when you mixed pink and blue
fitting adequate to the regular selfies everyone takes. I have been at home like a good pup.
I almost was suggested putting on the white vest because I’m most alone. So this is my luck,
in all the pain and rage, as a wild animal trapped inside, I planted some dying flowers for you.
In the silly hope, you could make these poppies grow. So, hey Spring, could you
dress as business as usual, I really wish I could partake in something pretty too,
without the need to ask or beg for it in such formality.
Send my regards to Summer, miss it too.
Her name is Lara. She was born in 1984 and since childhood, this nomad has written about the worlds built up in her head. However, when she is too lazy to express herself in with words, she uses her simple drawing skill.