My poetry stopped being beautiful when you left me
It became a cold reminder of what used to be
Everything turned black and grey and everything bright withered.
And suddenly the colors started to bleed back into the frames of my mind when you showed up and I didnt know why
But the simple fact is that you put the sun in my sky and the moon in my night.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 3:56 AM UTC
My poetry stopped being beautiful when you left me
It became a cold reminder of what used to be
Everything turned black and grey and everything bright withered.
And suddenly the colors started to bleed back into the frames of my mind when you showed up and I didnt know why
But the simple fact is that you put the sun in my sky and the moon in my night.
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