Sitting on my porch with a messy bun atop my head, wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt, spiral bound notebook in hand, and my knees up to my chest.

Reflecting on the years past, the bridges that I've built and the ones I've burned. It's interesting how seasons play such a big part of our lives. The weather is just one of those. It's cold outside, we change our clothes to warmer ones, light fires in the fireplace, drink warm drinks. It's hot outside, we change our clothes to cooler ones, swim in cool water, drink ice cold drinks. We are constantly trying to be exactly the opposite of our surroundings. Why?

Besides the general scientific fact of hypothermia and heat exhaustion, we not only change who we are in season of weather but in seasons of life. When we are in high school, all we do is long to grow up. When we are grown, we miss those carefree nights catching fireflies in our backyard. When we need friends so bad that we would do anything, even reject who we are, to be important to someone. When we recognize our importance and that quality over quantity is key.

Life holds so many twists and turns. One can look back on the last 5 years of your life and see just how much you've changed, how those around you have changed and the changes that will come in the path ahead.

It's okay to not be the same, feel the same, or want the same things as you did 5 years ago. You didn't disappoint your younger self, you just grew. You grew into someone new that has been seasoned by life experience. At 17, maybe all you wanted was to go to college, get drunk, have tons of friends, and be free. At 32, all you need is a quiet home with space just for you and your art. You yourself are a season and it's perfectly okay to change.



-t.s.

sweat dripping from my thighs
grey tank glued on me
i still got you on my mind
the world ending right before my eyes
murders crying wolf
my generation getting gassed and kidnapped
in the streets of LA, MIA, NYC, BA, CIN
drowning my days with tyler, the creator
humming to me
hoping to feel something
the way you used to make me feel
when we parted ways until our next life time

politicians hungry to violate civil rights
black, brown, trans
manifesting it in their dreams
they have it written in human blood
without a mask on to shield them
from the disease that is their greed

my perception jaded
my thoughts paralyzed
my body aching
might hit that pen
can’t even pick up a pen
having more time than my 20 years of existence

Down hills, sounds of wagon treading through the harsh road from departure;
it echoes amidst a quiet noon.
Above the warm and mellow sky, speckles of whites flutters, leaving behind gray-silver feathers.
The birds, once again, spreading their wings;
Leaving behind their home and travel east with leisure.
Seeking food and laying eggs for the next generation.

Commoner watches the brittleness of life fading away;
Preparing for winter as the leaves shed gray;
Paving the path for newly sprouted leaves when spring returns.

Chill, gentle mellow, soft blanket of hues embrace the living, and dead.
The children would be sent as errand-boy;
Helping their parents stock up supplies for the cold winter to come.
All year round of hardship, amount to little as they faced the imminent harsh season.

Not long, the street was emptied with none in sight.
On withered willow branches, a birch chirp, signifying that autumn has begun.

Gazing at the empty street, the window shut from the outside.
The quietness of autumn, strangely soothes one’s mind.
Not a voice nor sound was heard, as if heavens has lowered the curtain wide;
Deafening the land.

Living up north, the chill winds easily subdue one’s will.
Looking into a home, a wife was preparing a meal;
The husband would tend the fire, and take over heavy-duty tasks.
Their gaze wavered as they soon yearn for the coming of spring.

Faraway, a crisp, orange willow flew from its branches;
Landing on the ground below.
With a breath, gentle breeze embrace the willow with grace;
Carrying it thousands of miles away.

Facing hardship, the misfortune are bound to perish;
The lucky individuals are to be rewarded.
Such, is the bitterness of life as ones cherish;
For the four seasons are ever-changing.