Worrying it could end was white.
White like running in snow without any doubt, without any thought chasing you. Being so happy that you don't notice the slippery floor. Like slipping, feeling everything slide out of your hand, without a chance to catch it. Like being happy, too happy, that kind of happy where you start forgetting about everything else, that makes the fall so sudden. Like my body crashing onto the cold floor, eventhough I felt so free not even a minute ago.
White like the dress the girl wore, the dress you were so fascinated by. Making me look through my closet and even go through tons of sides on the internet so that you would maybe tell me that I was beautiful too.
White like the moonlight shining into my face while I was sitting at our place, wiping my tears away, begging the moon to not allow you to leave me too. Asking him questions as if he knew why you didn't love me anymore.
Worrying it could end was white.
YOU ARE READING
Colours
Poetry"𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥."
