these few days (i want to say years but probably not) i've been telling people i like green grapes now. it's true, but a dishonest answer. i like green grapes. their sweetness is subtle and mellow and i feel a little refined and grown up. it's not as popular. each grape is perfectly and evenly green and they're cold on my lips. it's not as sweet.
it's true, i like this life, this identity. green grapes. mature now. responsible thinking and calm heart and stable mind. i like green grapes. i'm not lying. green grapes are underrated. i wish green grapes got more love. i am enjoying my fruit bowl. i am so happy.
i'm not lying. i would pick green grapes everytime now. i'm not...
i hate being mature
i hate being grown up
i just want to curl up
and i want to chase love recklessly and melt in a new pair of arms i'll dream about again tomorrow
i want love
i hate the slow burn of stability
i could be so much more than this
i'm a leftover star in the aftermath
no supernova ever coming again
i hate being stuck like this
i've learnt to enjoy green grapes, but i will forever love red grapes. i appreciate the mellow subtle sweetness i've been searching for, but i will not pretend my heart is not in the same place it always was and always will be.
i am a romantic, and i am a fool
and i am a child and a grape should be sweet
i want to feel a deep and sharp and vast and piercing love
i wish i could truly enjoy green grapes
YOU ARE READING
gold-tinted glasses
Poetrythe sky spills open and the flowers gleam gold, and looking up at the sunlight i see it all written clear as day in the trees a diary romanticising coming of age, relationships, heartbreak and love again
