again

crawling back
stepping into myself
i meet myself again

and in this mind of mine i call my home
i like my awkward presence 

there are so many things to stumble upon - 
a hibiscus dried up between the pages of lost poems,
a warm memory, a childhood toy,
tears of sadness, tears of joy!

i stay awake,
paint my dark nights purple and blue- 
hyacinth purple, sky like blue.
in the morning, i reach my roof 
and with the pigeons, i coo

i fly away
to crawl back again