The first time you walk on the beach
And the first time you notice what's so close, yet out of reach.
The first time you dance with him at night
And the color of his voice when he says "It's alright."
Then it's the bump of every sound wave,
Making you hold on to every word
The color of his veins, matching yours at dawn.
Being so happy, until everything is gone.
Then, it's the color of seeing him leave.
It's when you grieve.
It is when you cry yourself to sleep,
Tears running down your face
But somehow it is still your saving grace.
When you wake up, and you have nothing to say
But no matter what, you still see that day
When the pain finally leaves, and you meet them
Their colored hair so contrast to yours
It's when it becomes the warmest color.
It's the color of your dim-lighted eyes
Finally, coming back to life.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
The first time you walk on the beach
And the first time you notice what's so close, yet out of reach.
The first time you dance with him at night
And the color of his voice when he says "It's alright."
Then it's the bump of every sound wave,
Making you hold on to every word
The color of his veins, matching yours at dawn.
Being so happy, until everything is gone.
Then, it's the color of seeing him leave.
It's when you grieve.
It is when you cry yourself to sleep,
Tears running down your face
But somehow it is still your saving grace.
When you wake up, and you have nothing to say
But no matter what, you still see that day
When the pain finally leaves, and you meet them
Their colored hair so contrast to yours
It's when it becomes the warmest color.
It's the color of your dim-lighted eyes
Finally, coming back to life.
