elysium would be a cool breeze brushing against my cheeks
as I sit on that old hill of my family’s home
the prairie grass would whisper to me as I look into the sky
there would be vivid sunset of color painting my skin like a masterpiece
a blanket wrapped around limbs like a warm embrace
my favorite cup in my hands
filled with coffee, steaming and swirling away from me
i would not forget the most important things
a good book, worn yet loved
my loyal notebook filled with all my thoughts
it would be a setting sun that would never end
the darkness would never stretch fully across the sky
that would be a paradise all my own
a poet's confessional 