Bits of My Ideas

Temperatures

The cold is in the frost, the ice, and everything that cuts you with sharp edges. It's in the snow that weighs down on the roofs and steps. It's in the empty distance. It's in the dead ends and corners. It's in the towering shadows. It's in the smirks of pride. It's in the stares of disappointment. It's in the glares of annoyance. It's in the breaths of fear. It's in the loneliness that fogs up your window glass.

The chill is in the breeze, the rain, and everything that washes down your chaos. It's in the moon that shines through the dark. It's in the sunset that relaxes your soul after a long day. It's in the fresh air that fills your lungs on a morning walk. It's in your mother's touch on your forehead in your feverish dream. It's in the eye of a storm. It's in the waves of the sea. It's in the tears of relief. It's in the calmness that gently keeps you grounded.

The warmth is in the sunshine, the kindness, and everything that warps you in a soft embrace. It's in your childhood blanket that is too small for you now. It's in the lunchbox that your mother prepared for you. It's in the smiles of reassurance. It's in the words of comfort. It's in the laughter of close friends. It's in the smell of home. It's in the hug that gives you a shoulder to lean and cry on.

The heat is in the afternoon sun, the fire, and everything that dances with flames. It's on the scorching pavement and licks your feet through your shoes. It's in the sweat that beads on your forehead under pressure. It's in the veins pumped up with adrenaline. It's in the sighs of passion. It's in the air of fights. It's in the spits of anger. It's in the curses of spite. It's in the stabs of pain in your chest inflicted by mere words.

15th April 2024, Monday