sun·set
/ˈsənˌset/
noun
i. yesterday we were matchsticks waiting for the sun to light us. today we're ash — gray soot skeletons of a memory and a half. still, we wait for new beginnings, that same hot breeze when the sun waves hello and we feel the flames light up our bodies. it burns the back of our throats and for once it's like we're alive.
ii. do you ever feel cold? does the darkness tempt you because you're scared of everything you've never known? when you feel the weight of goodbye slip into the cracks and crevices of your chest, remember this. remember that hollow bones can break and snap like fire logs and it's then you'll be longing for the light, for the sun to sew up the ripped seams of your cold body.
iii. the sky is a warm-toned painting behind your face and i can see the day's colors dance in your eyes. we're stuck in an endless, painful cycle of departures and holding on and we can't escape it.
