2017

January

January.
I had bloomed to become the most beautiful thing I have never seen. Beginnings are always happy; says my ending self with a frown on her face, I'm on the edge of tears.
I had become the brightest star in his sky, little did I know that even stars do die. And new ones are born, they'll come to die too, just like I did.
Let them dance around and light your night and make you think about the future you think you have all figured out.
I had become a sunflower farm; pretty to look at. I was bright, happy, I was the yellow paint in the dark room. I spoke volumes, with a heart with wings.
You could see how beautiful I could be from a distance, at sunlight.
But couldn't see me falling apart at dawn... slowly but surely.
I needed some saving but it wasn't that big of a deal for me to notice.
I had become the pumpkin spice latte on a Christmas morning and although it was only January; I felt it in my bones.
I didn't know how owning it felt; but I'm sure this is how it was supposed to feel.
I hadn't felt this whole in a while, from picking up my pieces and gluing them back together.
Little did I know I was gluing my glass heart with paper glue and it would soon fall apart, just like I did
I never saw it coming...