Poems probably

void

I look up at the sky, the blue so beautiful, even if the sun makes it painful to look at.

I lay back on the grass.

My hair fades into the green, my limbs sprawled out for the ants and ladybugs to crawl right over.

I push back into the earth, to feel the blades of green in between my fingers and brushing the sides of my face. I push back into the earth, and I set my body a little firmer into the grass, becoming just a little more apart of it than I was before.

But soon enough, I need to get going. I get up off the ground, and take a look at the outline of my body imprinted into the grass, and I am so suddenly even less apart of it than what I was before.

I had never felt the rays of the sun, and oh how fine I seemed to be.

I could feel warm other ways, blankets and pillows and the comfort of my own arms.

But now that it has shone upon me, and now that it is gone for a little while,

I feel a coldness that blankets wont warm, 

a lost piece of myself my hands cant fill, 

and an empty longing that was not caused by wanting an experience, but the unexpected ending of one which I did not even want in the first place.