# data[].attributes.body
My life turns to sand the second it happens. Or rather, my past does, and my life is spent looking for it, as ff it might reappear around any corner, like a child in a game of hide-and-seek. At any moment now, the lost time will pop up from behind some berry bush, and shout "Here I was, the whole time! How silly you were, not to have seen me sooner."

But I've never been very good at being seeker. I am wildly turning around, always searching for yesterday's me, like Orpheus looking for

Eurydice. The person I seek dissolves the very moment I glimpse her. I am still leaning back, reaching behind for

her,

My little Eurydice.

At my 5th birthday party, I ran away and sobbed because I couldn't bear the pain of no longer being four.

I've always lived this life of looking backwards. The pattern is very old and inescapable: scrimshawed into my child bones.

# data[].attributes.body
The rain pours onto the ground

not bothering to watch where it drops

It’s long stay has been announced

As clouds cover the sky no feelings or thoughts

The clouds creep into my mind

Tears welling in my eyes my heart hallow

The words in my head leave me agonized

Some of the statements too hard to swallow

I watch as the colors in the sky manipulate

The scenery changes but the dark gray remains

Will this rain even take a break

I don’t think I’ll ever see the sun’s flames

Because today is a cloudy day

This day full of hate regret and remorse

The sun won't shine in this haunted display

And the sky is swallowed whole

every painful cry ignored

# data[].attributes.body
things don't die or remain damaged

but return: stumps grow back hands,

a head reconnects to a neck,

a whole corpse rises blushing and newly elastic.

Later this vision is not True:

the grandmother remains dead

not hibernating in a wolf's belly.

Or the blue parakeet does not return

from the little grave in the fern garden

though one may wake in the morning

thinking mother's call is the bird.

Or maybe the bird is with grandmother

inside light. Or grandmother was the bird

and is now the dog

gnawing on the chair leg.

Where do the gone things go

when the child is old enough

to walk herself to school,

her playmates already

pumping so high the swing hiccups

# data[].attributes.body
Cloud days
Crisp air on my skin
Days — wearing thin

Cloudy days
Rain again
Cold creeps up from within

Wish he stayed
Miss the heart he stole
Now life feels so dull

Muddy shoes
Walk through the door
Clacking on the wooden floor

Cloudy days
Rains some more
Thunder strikes along the shore

# data[].attributes.body
Sentence after sentence, we put time.

Line after line, we never cried.

Dot after dot, we subside.

Comma after comma,

We became untied.

Punctuation.

Annotate.

Printing.

Write.

# data[].attributes.body
Today is a cloudy day
as I watch the sun fade away
the sky turns grey
in an open field i lay
thinking about when I used to play
feeling like I'm under a dray
where I'm peoples display
or their ashtray
making me feeling outweigh
but now its may
and the clouds are making a clearway
for the sun to shine my way

# data[].attributes.body
Here lies the body of V.

Fell from a tree, and broke his knee.

Somehow sipping his tea.

All because he needed to kill a flea.

# data[].attributes.body
I love Cloudy days!!
Cloudy days are
quit
peaceful
comforting
calm
But not everyone sees that  instead, they see
boredom
cold
wind
sadness
I always seem to be the one to see the good in the dark when others run from it.  I love cloudy days

# data[].attributes.headline
CD part 3 (clearer/easier readable font)

# data[].attributes.subject
CD part 3 (clearer/easier readable font)

# data[].attributes.body
CD
Thy mood is ever so gray with thy feeling of tranquility so exquisite that thou shall not feel the excitement of joy like tho who be so colorful.
Thy mood is ever so gloomy that thys feelings of despair so enlightening that thou shall not feel the pittiness of the poor like tho who be the richest.
Thy mood is ever so worried with thy feelings of fear so chilling that thou shall not feel the flight or fight response like tho who be what is called normal.
Thy mood is ever so sad with thy feeling of guilt of sinners that thou shall not feel remorse of repent like tho who be actually committed to quit there crimes.
Thy mood is ever so cloudy with thy feelings of mist of a storm that thou shall not feel the thunder of rain like tho who be named a natural disaster.