It was roughly around 4:00 am
My mind is foggy, blurred, i cannot seem to recall by the minute
However the imagery of that morning stay imprinted
Imprinted within the chest of melancholic memories
My skin had lost its golden glow, replaced by a deep shade of berry crimson
It was as if my wrists were a carpet and I had spilt wine staining my fabric
I had stepped to the edge, the edge of life, the edge of my balcony
I looked up to the sky
At the bubblegum boy's work
He had painted the sky a bubblegum blue
With a soft violet hue
And the clouds were scattered
Scattered like pieces of plushy pink cotton candy
The moon was carefully placed into view
Shimmering like a great chandelier
Stars were scattered like sprinkles on a cupcake
It was a sweet sickly sight
So I stepped farther
So I stepped closer
Closer to my conclusion
But the bubblegum boy stopped me
His voice was sticky and soft like honeycomb
He sung to me
He sung a song so sweet, a song so strong
That it made me want to listen forever
Forever
-M
YOU ARE READING
H A N A H A K I
PuisiA book of poetry - because he makes me want to write lovesick poetry about sun kissed skin and paint petals of soft pinks. - and bc I have issues lol
