Millions [Poetry]

lemonade blues

lemonade blues

february27twenty18

the prettiest strands are all painted different colors, and they're woven together into something blurry enough to make me want to cry.

I never realized how interwoven my fingers were with a red rose tint. how it moved with me - how it seemed to put the slightest filter on life, so that I never seemed to notice.

but I'm moving towards deeper skies, towards pink lemonade and clearer ebony. against such a dark color, I can see how filtered I actually am. I wouldn't be able to distinguish pink lemonade from a bad day.

my heart, my dark - they are tethered to late night tears and shattered glass, holes in the wall.

blow up balloons with the songs that closed my eyes, let them fly up to the sky to float among a thousand stars. we are up there. we lay under these stars, and we shall meet again under them once again.

the removal of the pretty shackles has yet to begin; but awareness that they are present is the first step to truly becoming one with the sky.