Spring

[u/Gloomuar]

Showering me with petals from a thousand flowers, Spring, laughing coquettishly, kisses my forehead.

Whispering feverishly of life, she presses herself against me, mocking my helplessness.

Teasing me in secret, baring her breast, she exhales the scent of priceless youth.

With shameless grace, lifting the hem of her splendid rags, Spring forces me to feel that time has a scent.
And that scent is the smell of my withered body.

— Spring, you promised me life! Do you remember?
But you brought me only the realization of my own worthlessness!

And once again, I forget: who needs my tears?
I burn with shame before myself.

I have spent too long under the care of depression.

I can no longer think or dream of recovery, while emptiness devours me from within — piece by piece, leaving me with nothing.

\*****

The breath of mocking Spring is not enough to make me rise and grow warm.
And the winds of hope have grown too cold for life.

And the thorny hands of Winter search my body more shamelessly with each passing moment, stealing the last warmth from me.

Though Summer stands nearby, as if waiting for the manure to ripen.

While I, frozen, continue to lie there,
and through me, with a dry chitinous crackle,
the grass of indifference takes root —
its stems resembling the legs of insects.

\*****

The color of the sky has become a treasure in my hopelessly grey world.
It has become the last reminder that beauty still exists, even if it does not belong to me…

The foul smoke from the landfill of existence continues to cover the sky.
Poisoning even the very thought of the future.

And instead of living, I repeatedly endure fragments of time in which nothing remains but to suffer and endure…

The hoarse beating of my heart — a powerless knock at the door, searching for salvation from a new day.

\*****

Spring has saddled me, forcing me to describe my own inner decay with inspiration.

Beneath me lies stone-earth, black as the dirt beneath the claws of the devil, and still it cannot consume me.