Little past 4 am, the clock above me ticks away
Yesterday’s coffee mug lays unwashed, lingering it’s smell
Mid September’s wind getting colder by the day
Dancing around with curtains
Gently tugging at my hair
I move a muscle to sit up
Clinging to the warmth of my blanket
Resembling a needy child
Hoping it would hug the blue in me
All is quiet and asleep
Even the flies have retired from exhaust
I walk to the balcony
Chill running through my skin , caressing each nerve
None is present in sight, but a blue sun
subtly rising and it’s soon to begone melancholy
Light rain had fell , left it’s twinkles on paved roads
I hear the evened out breaths in the background
Again
The hollow of my chest is still quite present
And yet
Perhaps I wouldn’t need a meaning to see a blue sun again tomorrow