solemn silence
sleeping
seeping through

rites of
solitude

rites of
sleepless nights

weeks of
isolated
self medication

rites of what

sick silent solitude seeping through

rites of silence
of solitude

rites of sickness
deep within

Perhaps the sky was never blue
Gray skies made an unnatural dusty pink
By rose tinted glasses

Each bolt of lightning
So naively mistaken
As brilliant rays of sunlight

And sure at times, flowers bloomed
But at its depths, the frigid cold of winter remains
Darling, your beauty is merely skin deep

I should've listened when they said
That if I gazed into the sun long enough
I'd go blind

And now I'm stumbling around
Arms outreached
Like the bare limbs of winter trees
Wondering why I let these roots grow so deep