[14] - monday's child.

「 soloing pas de deux. 」

the very first night, ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ, 01.19

fingers numbed by the quill,

august makes it all feel surreal.

lips ghosted with disuse by silence,

cold as the asphalt a storm drenches.

all i ever seem to write of by and by

is the oft flood of the weeping sky.

versed diary entries hold memory

of my faults and heartbroken misery.

is nostalgia an inevitable part of acceptance?

the pieces my heart missed still slow dance.

i can't help but look back on how it was;

everything came, went, and left too fast.

silent with thoughtful sentimentality,

but yesterday's door is closed with utter finality.

the heart slows down a pulse,

rivers of ice thaw with the sky fall.

turn off the radio, tear off the cast,

leave them all behind in the past.

why look back to where i stray,

when all you'd do is wait but never stay?

proof of time hangs crystallised,

dancing suspended in the air;

through and beyond piercing sunlight,

for it's been a while since my heart you impaired.