the slow art of breathing bitter

Bleedin' Wine

"Goodbye, love."

And for the first time,

this felt so different.

Like bleedin' wine through

her fragile heart.

Perhaps, the stars didn't glow,

Or the moon didn't flame,

Or there wouldn't be any tomorrow.

Or we wouldn't be lovin' each other anymore.

But for the first time, this felt so raw.

Like heading to somewhere awfully cold,

without any coat and away from home

Forever.

-sometimes, we can go along without pretendin' we're an us.

———————————

A/N: I missed the yellow stars and your lovely comments so much! How about some sprinkles of stars and confetti? ;)