➳ the things i never say out loud

a sTory'S enD

Tale as old as time,
one that shines through the depth of the night.
As if a glass shoe illuminating the streets,
its heel cracked and its rim stained with dirt.
How could anyone see such beauty if it is hidden,
like the moon, masked by a blanket of clouds. 

A song as old as life itself, 
the scarlet colour of a wilting rose. 
The most prominent of all its features, 
its beauty unmatched, its love unrivalled.  
Yet it bows its head in sorrow afraid that unwanted eyes might see,
that its thorns may hurt anyone who adores it. 

Minds as wise as yours, 
are more valuable than the golden colours
of hay, twine, jewels or silk.
Yet for some reason, you long for them,
materials buried in an overflowing sea of tears
you reach and pull never to retrieve anything. 

Kindness as old as pain,
the tears that drip from your eyes.
Mask your happiness and joy,
let them pour until you have become a mirrored version of yourself. 
Why not eat from the apples?
Bite down on all your sorrow.