Unfulfilled

#2

The sky looks different today.
It's usually a pale blue at this time of the day. It's the middle of summer and not like the sky turns snowy or anything in some other part of the year, but today it's just odd. It has no character and no life.
Basically I have no muse today. Anyways, something or the other will come up, not like I'm paid to write daily. Although, it does cross my mind that I've only written sad poetry for quite some time now. What else did I expect myself to do if some part of my inappropriately wired brain is always missing him? I should honestly try to distract myself, but how? He's light and colour and faded undertones of fluid art gradients. He's the periwinkle that the street dog nips at right after I click a picture of it. He's ethereal, like some fairy general sent on a mission to protect the world but then he fell in love with me and they got rid of him because he had brought dishonour upon them. No no no. I don't want to be his downfall. Well, not like its possible. I do go overboard sometimes. Nothing seems like too much in his case.
Except missing him. It's getting too much and I don’t know how much longer I can go hanging on the thread of hope his last message gave me. It said, " I'm fine, just don’t contact me until I do". It was not a threat but a pretty normal occurrence. His house was like a fireworks factory and fires broke out often and destroyed everything in their path, both, metaphorically and literally.
The sky just got darker.