Write about birds and flowers

The last cigarette seems to have lasted a whole hour
and I wanted to write this

It’s been a long time since
about birds and flowers and the grass that
overlaps everything 

And everything and everyone 
in this place seem to be a starring 
role to my loneliness

The birds hover around and never
get close enough so I can ask them about 

Freedom

and being  one with the ground and all that’s in it
being one with infinity

But what I know of 
infinity is just what my eyes can reach 

I said in the grass because all seats were taken
by people who, just like me, avoid 
being mistaken by ants

And now, the answer already
eating me alive

I wish I could be mistaken by a flower
but flowers I just alright with 
withering 
so they can bloom again

And I’m just afraid of every change in the horizon
The passing of seasons
The rain’s helping the grass grow and it will drain all my will to live

The ants are having a party in my skin I’m 
too tired to move
and I lighted another cigarette hoping

that the wind won’t put it down hoping 
that the wind mistakes by a bird hoping
that the wind mistakes me by a flower

Supporting role to someone else

Thank you for reading.

Love,

Adora