Go where the soil hold the seeds. I give into the night like a promise. Watch what blooms in darkness. Everyone stops caring as much after the damage is done. The shock wears off and the longing for your old self sets in. Everyone saw it in your smile, so you don’t anymore. what would you plant if you knew everything was promised to bloom? I can’t help but circle the garden for a clue. I can’t beg the flowers into opening up fully. I can’t ask them to understand me. I’ll hold seeds in my pocket. Introduce them to the earth to see if it’ll make a good home. Hope the rain doesn’t wash it all away. Find a place worth making a home out of. A place where the night and morning can share the same peace. A place where the soil holds the seeds. -AMT©️