it's yellow, you think, when you wake up earlier than usual unexpectedly just in time to watch the sunrise and sit in your balcony and feel the earth come to life before the rest of the world. it's a vine climbing up from your tongue caressing every inch of your lungs just to settle down at your heart binding it into something larger than life. it's realising the magic of a moment before it comes a memory.
it is polaroids and all the bright things in your future you can't imagine yet. it is the ability to think of one possible. it is when you wake up one day and decide you're going to live, this world is yours, this heart will beat. sometimes it lies in trying and sometimes it nuzzles itself into words and sometimes it's chrysanthemums you bought at a florist beside the ruins you wandered into with your friends.
sometimes it's cotton mouths and poetry and wishes, sometimes it's smiles and sighs and puffed up lungs. sometimes it's a music note you learn to perfectly transition into, and sometimes it's just completely nested in you.
no matter what happens, it always begins and ends with you.
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tell me what you think of this and i will love you forever
YOU ARE READING
Acoustic Memories
Poesiapoetry burns through our veins like it did in yours. for what is poetry except inked music? Highest Ranking : #86 POE
