MY SUN
First
As an acacia flower
I'll sprout myself,
spread through you like vines,
make you think your whole
Then
I'll plant grey clouds in your irises that will precipitate into pained tears
Finally
While cradling you like a broken doll I'll whisper sweet reassurances
And
remind you that tonight the frost of the night will demise your might
But tomorrow when day is here,
The warming sun will be your symbol of hope
I'll hold in my smirk when you mutter
"But my sun is holding me"
YOU ARE READING
4am
PoésieI spent most of my life learning how to feel less These days I teach myself to feel more Kill your emotions and you'll die along with them C O M P L E T E D 2016•2018
