there is an ache in my heart,
where thorns have grown,
and from those; roses.
roses that bleed the color of my infatuation,
where i paint above my brow,
and that color bleeds from where i rip apart my canvas.
there is a fiery amber lit in her eyes,
and mine is a dimming forest that had burned down.
i know i talk about her eyes a lot,
but that is because it's one of the things that make living worth it.
to look at her is always as overwhelming as the first time,
she's a constant.
if i am a sunflower, she is the sun.
if i am a thorn, she is the rose.
if i am existing, she is the centre of my universe.
perhaps, i shall talk about myself one day.
but for now, she is enough. and always will be.
it's time she realized that.
- the sun
YOU ARE READING
growing wings | Completed
Poetry❝my freedom was at the cost of my sanity❞ how far would you go to earn your freedom, if it meant stripping away your happiness and losing your mind. freedom does not mean liberat...
