Your embrace is a paragon of false presence. I ache for it, yet I dare not utter it. Perhaps I believed nothing would change, and I shiver at the thought of you leaving. I chose to live in illusion rather than see grief make a home in my very bones; to make it hollow. I am the problem. There is no growth awaiting you beside me. If this is the sunset I do not want to see, will you hug me one last time? So I feel the warmth of whom my feet once walked with before my globe trembles and rain a cold glitter.
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Letters To Nimbus
Poesia[ a poetry collection about breaking and forgiving. ] He admired her so much that the light she emits blinded his eyes, and all he has vanished to oblivion. A mistake he failed to avoid. She saw him turned into something else; it was mournful. To pr...
