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Sarah Burcea Jun 3
They ask me why I love the rain, when it understands my pain.
Why I love the ocean and snow, because only they would know, the beauty in the rigid.
Leave me be, at the bottom of the sea, where the sirens sing to me.
Let my morrows, filled with sorrows, be turned to sparrows, and fly away.
Let my bones, find a home, deep In the grounds below.
Let the skies perceive with me, telling me they grieve with me.  
Let the stars sing to me, the tales of the sun and moon.
For in their songs I've found grace.
Let the arms of nature's embrace, spin me into the sweetest glace.
Let the sun comb its fingers through my hair, chasing away my despair.
Where the violets grow, that's where I'll be.
Between then and now, that is where you'll find me.
Sunken at sea or washed ashore,
Between land and sky I am torn.
My body, mind, and soul, belonging to the mother of earth alone.
For she knows my lament, and she carries me with her winds.
Ties flowers in my hair, not caring for my sins.
Sarah Burcea May 23
Maybe they felt too much.
At that moment, they wanted just a touch.
But they fell, crashing hard, and feeling it all too greatly.

Maybe the boy felt too much too soon.
Maybe the words in his throat, spoken too soon.
Maybe like you and me, he thought himself the moon,
Reaching for the sun, didn't care if he’d burn.
Set fire and feel the hurt, his devotion determined to assert.

The higher the climb, the harder the fall, they said.
He loved with all his soul, diving and losing control, to what end?
Nothing could stop him from reaching, wanting to feel the sun on his skin.
He wanted to feel it all, he and we, so akin.

And those who’d promised to catch him let him fall.
Plunging into the quiet waters down below.
And how terribly we wished not to feel it all.
Not listening to our hearts' call.
How much we wish we could desensitize.
Stay in the waters below,
easier not to feel, we surmise.

We who feel it too much; Who would break from empathy’s touch.
Maybe it wasn't his pride that made him reach for the sun.
Maybe it was his affinity for the things felt in calamitous depths.

— The End —