Too Much Perfection Is Imperfect

05// fi ve a.m

You are the gold
Visible from the cracks of the the sky
At five a.m sharp
When beneath the sky is where you lie

You're the pastel shades to an artist in despair
You're the first shade his achromatic eyes open to
You're that first shy glance across the dimply lit room
You're the only thing that can make a rock solid heart bloom

You're something you'll only truly know
When beneath the blotches of blue paint is where you lie
Five a.m sharp is when you'll know
That you're more than just a than just a distraught heart and a hollow soul's frustrated cry

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