Ambient reverberation of car tyres on dry asphalt,
Engines roaring their melodious tune
Never once did the noises surrounding ever halt
As I move my attention to the moon.

The moon had a different shade of blue and grey
Its light warms my shivery shoulder
Beauty is in the beholder as humans always say
But beauty is in simple things like solder.

I've arrived at a junction where stars are simple,
They are the tiny specks of unformed moon
Like the little indentation on faces known as dimples
They are the beauty of a deflated balloon.

A deflated balloon will remain beautiful
Always more than its purpose, dutiful,
For it represented happiness and fun,
No one ever looked sad holding a balloon...

That was being alive
Being loved for acting five
Reliving the child inside
As adulthood goes to hide
That was being alive.

You saw teardrops from stormy clouds
And asked, ‘why the sky was crying’?
‘Why is the little boy next door dying’?
You were really just lying,
To your conscience.
The pain never really stopped,
It was just a photo with edges cropped
The way you zoomed in on you and her
And the background started to blur.
Not everything changes, some things do
Because the sky will only ever be blue
Some days you’ll have patches of grey clouds
And teardrops that lonely puff enshrouds
You’re left with the thought of the inner kid.

The kid inside that didn’t think about crying,
The kid inside that never knew about dying
The kid inside that conspired to hide
Like it was playing a game of hide and seek,
Never knew that clouds could even leak
And the salty discharge between eyes
Were just sugar coated cookie lies
About how we were meant to grow old

That kid is not dead, just hidden inside
like a clumsy cat caught between drapes,
That kid inside is stuck and trying to escape
And will only ever come back to light
When you realise that you can grow up
but maybe growing up is simply enough
because growing old is not a must.

Relive that kid hidden inside you,
Because otherwise that kid would die
And then skies would be frail blue
And you’d realise why the skies would cry.

There won’t be bunnies in clouds
Magic dragons in built in closets
And all you will know is crowds
That were more invested in bank deposits.

**** GROWING OLD.
Constant search for hands to hold
Where weather only felt cold
Because warm was too much to handle
And you’d reminisce on scented candles.
**** GROWING OLD.

So forget what you have been told,
About how you were meant to grow old
That’s just a tear stained dream society sold
You don’t have to grow old
Because sometimes growing up
Is simply enough.

Does heartbreak bring any tidings?
The way your ears echo from the goodbyes
The chest pain and tears it brings
And reminders that "I'm ok" as coated lies.

They say with every heartbreak, we grow
Rise up from the stem to blossom as a rose
But how can you grow with a chest so hollow
how can you grow when even rivers froze.

Mark twain once spoke of love and caution
"Never allow someone to be your priority
While allowing yourself to be their option"
The repercussion is a feeling of inferiority.

You would let a person break your heart
Yet still treasure dearly that same exact person
When you realise that it is time to part
The feeling of separation tends to worsen.

You would let the love you feel stay alive
When the sun becomes covered in spots of blue
You convince yourself to somehow survive
By the belief that letting go is love too.

Time heals all wounds no matter the size
The unseen love someone has been providing
Will lead to rivers unfrozen, shift lows to highs
So...does heartbreak bring any tidings?

I TOLD YOU THAT I WAS DYING AND YOU TOOK ONE LOOK AT MY BLEEDING THROAT AND TOLD ME NOT TO GET BLOOD ON YOUR NEW SHIRT