Where Time Stands Still.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍.

𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍.

𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑.

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎,

𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎.

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚢.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎.

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚍.

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐.

© Moonyloonywitch

02/08/2021

9:59 pm

Do you know how it feels to hold your happiness in your hands and watch it swirl there in a pool of golden light before the night comes and snatches it away from your bleeding hands only to leave you wondering why it suddenly feels like your throat is burning when all you ever did was take a sip from your lover's lips ?

Like phases of the moon, I change the way I see the world. Sometimes it's too much yellow, all bright and beautiful and like the scenes from a ballroom.

And sometimes it's a tired white. With no life left in me to fight. I can feel the sighs of the earth. We share our tears, and I feel safe in her arms.

Every now and then it's green. Fresh and alive, looking like a newly bloomed daffodil. It brings back memories of past summers. A carefree world with a golden undertone.

I also see red sometimes. Like the scream of a banshee and the pain in their eyes. It reminds me of my first heartbreak. Drunk and hurting with heavy eyes, but a heavier heart.

But today all I see is grey. Like the monotonous susurration of the rain, it's killing me slowly, burying me alive. Seeping into me like I am a sponge.

This is why I hate gloomy rainy days.

It feels like I am half dead, but half alive.

I don't know where to belong.

....................................................................................................

The sky keeps pouring outside.

But all that my eyes see are worlds within each drop.

Each one looks so transparent and fragile.

And as they race each other against my window,

I silently cheer for the one that's slow.

Because I know how it feels to be last.

And because I know there's still a chance.

Who knows, maybe when the night becomes alight,

I'll stop seeing the world in blue.

Maybe when the stars come out and paint the sky,

the colours in my head will mix and blend.

And when they do so, I'll wait by the seashore.

Brush in my hand and music on my lips.

Holding my breath, in the fading sunlight.

Susurrations of my heart grows louder,

as I watch the sky being adorned in a soft pink.

© Moonyloonywitch

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Beauty of nature is not found without.

It exists at the end of your every neuron.

Everytime you smile it feels like I am bathing in the warmth of the afternoon sun, slowly disintegrating into the golden swirls that pour from your brown eyes. How often have I melted at your fingertips so that you may scoop me up and paint such beautiful sunsets that tell the stories I have kept locked away. I don't know which is more beautiful, to become a breath taking painting or to be the favourite colour of the painter.

I love him,

In the late hours of the night.

When the silence around starts to feel like home,

I love him.

When the dawn approaches in the horizon,

looking so hazy and confused,

I love him.

The slow call of the nightingale breaks my train of thoughts about him.

But still, I continue to love him.

He exists in the abandoned corners of my mind.

And he is there, always smiling when I close my eyes.

The silhouettes made by the moonlit night,

somehow ends up looking like him.

And when I trace my fingers across the shadows formed,

I love him.

For some reason, he seems to be everywhere I look.

And for some reason, I always love him, every single time.

I love him,

like the favourite quote of mine stuck in my head.

I love him,

like the soft melody of the first rain.

I love him,

like he had loved me.

In darkness and in silence.

But never in each other's presence.

splinters of infinity.

i wish you could see through my kaleidoscopic eyes; my skies are forever echoing your light. at first light, my tongue salivated for you. you stirred something in me, like falling for a poem at first verse. the heart is delicate in matters like this; heart-strings fraying from carrying an immense weight. i know how supple your verses are, that was given but what spurred me was how gently words blossomed on your tongue; you’d envelop the night with whispers of warmth. sometimes i’m convinced you’re celestial, the moons in your eyes seem to suggest so.   my tongue knows you by name, but the heart knows you by poetry. by one a.m. the night starts to settle in sleepy serenades. the moon is a burning ember we extinguished hours ago so we swallow the stars instead becoming starlit by our own premise. tidal silence; in waves came conversations that we peered into one another’s soul, other times we sat there simmering peacefully in the sounds of nighttime in downtown.   i think of your hands – still, wanting to lock my fingers between the gap in yours. perhaps i look fondly upon them since i know your mothers used hers to be destructive, and you’ve only used yours to be creative, nurturing, gentle, and soft. you could do a better job at kneading words into poetry.   we are verses tangled in the cosmos.

And sometimes we are left with no answers but a bleeding heart that still refuses to give up on them. Still holds on with the hope that someday we'll live the dream in our heads. And so we live, like butterflies waiting to come out of their cocoons. But sometimes the cocoon gets damaged before we can fly, before we can breathe. And all that's left will be the shattered pieces of our hearts that shines like little red spots......and people in a time after us will call them galaxies.

It takes a Minute to Love someone,

But Years to forget them.

And a Lifetime, to wonder

why you fell for them in the first place.

❤️

CARRY IT WITH YOU (k.p.k)