April showers bring May flowers and nostalgia because you're not around anymore

from by Luella and the Ladybug

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Spring drips lacquer-like kisses on my flower beds and waters my eyes. I grow seeds the color of violets and iris and they blossom forth into trees sturdy enough to hammock your heart.
I remember you crying at 4am on a dark rooftop.
I remember you climbing down and letting me know you were actually afraid of heights.
I think the roguish boy inside you has a heart like a hummingbird's
-- and the man who hurls these awful words at noon and slips moonshine in his coffee has a heart of ironwood.
It is sturdy and burns for a longtime.
Springtime drips rain onto my eyelids and my hair grows long, lank, and greasy. I am part mud and part dust motes. The hair from my armpits grows down to my hips and coils around me, hugging me close. I am part woman and part earth. Between the cracks in my fragile love ferns spring up like dandelion weeds and plant their roots deeper than quack grass.
I am empathy, and I am a tree strong enough to hammock the heaviest of hearts.
I like the taste of cold coffee when you can see your breath at 5am because it makes me think of you. I like the smell of grass growing and running into lakes because it sounds simple. I love you with a deepness and a purpose. I love you like a river before a mountain. I'll lay at your feet and complete your painting. I'll sip your moonshine and cull your crying. I'll slip your moonshine and call out, "you're trying!"
I am a flower bed tilled deep enough to plant in but shallow enough to not hold sturdy trees. And when a seed of that kind plants itself I find the roots cracking through and around me. Crashing and twisting through my hair and into my brain. I try to coddle myself and wrap my arms around mine and your misery. I let the rain seep in and drown the flowers I have tried to grow. I am a failing and flailing garden whose worth you couldn't sow. I am plucking the harvest in autumn and drinking coffee to relax. I am planting tulips in hopes that next year-- I'll be strong enough to last.


from What Mountain, released August 14, 2015
Ukulele: Kirsten Bruce
Vocals: Kirsten Bruce



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Luella and the Ladybug Halifax, Nova Scotia

Kirsten Luella Bruce is from worst-case Ontario and making her home in Halifax. She writes songs and poetry of her heart.

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