A mirror cracked by
windless thoughts, that mimics
the figures in the sky.
Lilies move along with the memories
I hold, dancing faintly
to the rhythm of the swans.
I used to tell my mother
How those eyes glow
As cold and perfect as snow.
We never had the winter in us,
But you brought it
Like we live in the north.
Heading home—following
The butterflies that weave
the thoughts of killing myself.
At the church side grows the broken tree,
Where its shadow never hit
To where we used to sit.
And the afternoon sun's kiss
Hitting the cathedral glass,
Bouncing back only the color of yellow.
I have never felt the kind of ice before,
It freezes all of my thoughts.
I could die right now.
So kiss me, Yellow—
Envelop me
with the kindness of light.
Kiss me—
And let the orange pint of light
Touch me once again.
Before the thoughts
curve me downward
and wrap my final skin.
Jun 9, 2025
Jun 9, 2025 at 7:53 PM UTC
A mirror cracked by
windless thoughts, that mimics
the figures in the sky.
Lilies move along with the memories
I hold, dancing faintly
to the rhythm of the swans.
I used to tell my mother
How those eyes glow
As cold and perfect as snow.
We never had the winter in us,
But you brought it
Like we live in the north.
Heading home—following
The butterflies that weave
the thoughts of killing myself.
At the church side grows the broken tree,
Where its shadow never hit
To where we used to sit.
And the afternoon sun's kiss
Hitting the cathedral glass,
Bouncing back only the color of yellow.
I have never felt the kind of ice before,
It freezes all of my thoughts.
I could die right now.
So kiss me, Yellow—
Envelop me
with the kindness of light.
Kiss me—
And let the orange pint of light
Touch me once again.
Before the thoughts
curve me downward
and wrap my final skin.
