01.05.22
23:45Spring is now back in-between my palms and I wonder when can I hold this warmth, blue birds, magnolias, and dewy sky kind of joy a little bit longer than it want me to? The specific kind of warmth when someone tried to reach your palms and spared some of their calm heartbeats. Can't you see the sky wearing down their gradient pink colour one afternoon when you are out for a breather? It spares you some of their purple colour. It tells you how worthy you are, as someone who slows down the clock to tick. There are more kinds of birds than what you have already known. Did you know that some caves are not meant to be scary, but a hiding place, of where softness and silence can be made together and intertwined? And when the time comes, my darling, and it will, the unseen will then come out from the cold. The unseen will still be warm like a lightbulb in a late-night garden. It will still be warm like fireflies you tried to catch. It will still be warm like pressed-sands and orange sunset. There, you are standing alone still, like you want to know everything about this world. There is so much more.
YOU ARE READING
words don't come that easy.
PoetryI've tried. but i've always failed to contain these thousand words in a few sentences, maybe im bad at expressing macro feelings in the few words that I'm limited to. you might think you know me enough because it's been a long time since i first wav...