『°☁︎ ⇄:*˚:｡☁︎*.We stroke our polymer facades on a branch treading intricate threads of our ruptured human societies.
We dismantle our shells to shoot out pleasing words, while our vulnerability sinks underground;inert and inanimate .In us, vacant mo...
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Drench me in the melancholy you pined into my oatmeal skin. If every drop leaked a flooding pathway, then satellites were signalling into orbit our terrestrial planet across streams of via lactea.
We collideandclash, in blue and black with a paletteofeveryachromatic shredding light. I can't touch another pen without hollering over the guilt wailing, like aplagueover us. Like the residence of paint, oscillating and fluttering through mythical faeries, I was a compartment of the opuscule of colours. Our lives, or the the shadow of our rupturedbeing, was and is love;a miscellanea of pigment. For as we often whine about the wind that swerved in a fragmentary of technicolor-blemished waters,we regret the idea emphasizing the brief absence of it gliding through our morning sails. Whereas perhaps us bleaching our sight were our drugged regrets. The untold truth is we enable collisions of explosive vibrant extremes to achingly wait at bait to be insipid into our ivory-infused venom. I fell in love with scribbles, while Istripped myself into lossless talks about the picturesque as it came morbidly easy. Ichanted forests and boulders where mediocrity fell into the grip of sunset infused territories and giggles in the hearts of nature.
Metaphysically, the philosophy of our ideals were categories further wrapping the dilemma of my existence. Because in reality, a shielding body never meant a never-shifting interior. And you, taught me where aggravation, overripe and aged,hauled into tapestries,it wasn't the absence of love. You weren't an antagonist yet i shivered at your touch. You held me twice and i didn't understand why the twists in my stomach hurled anxiety-blossomed knots . I fell in love the choreography of our routine,back and forth,tender then cold, harsh yet delicate through the edges. But two extremes individually would never neutralize our solutions.
If i unlearned what you taught me,am i conforming within parameters of the customary? Would the sun be less of a star,for only half of it's light is what we encounter?
questions ,questions,questions
stocked into thee
but never opened;unanswered
On the morrow,I'd take up enough space for the both of us to dance into rhythms and tides .
I'd construct a finite sanctuary to feel broader than you . And maybe then I'd observe the monochrome within your red hues,until it enlarges.
I'd perceive everything you are,for everything you weren't to me.
I'd wail and howl,lest themoon sings along in agony or the sun amplifies it's rays 'til' she ceases.
You are an obsolete sculpture on display, shoved into the margin, frigid and hollow within, scraped at tips rigidly.
During my departure, know that this is the aeon to brush against the sky gently disassembling the monument of your reminiscence.
Know that this is the ever-blue of your erasure in my tender hard-copy eras.
<<<A carving of you to dele A state of vehemence to asphyxiate A letter simmering ablaze A swaying to another sonata of yours, as flowering Chrysanthemums incarnate elegant armlets around both hands. When push comes to shove, A pixie composes ballants bidding us farewell, and endlessly sings praises of our blooming tragedies across graves . For this is a purposeful ceremony to savour fumes of catastrophes in the name of shakesperien love sonnets>>>
