The sun sets low behind the trees
The sight of it bringing you to your knees
The trees branches still bare of leaves
Gives the sky a hauntingly beautiful glow
And your thankful to have been there to see the sunset beneath the trees
To be brought to your knees by the outstanding beauty that's nature
Seen a few lovely Sunsets lately on way home from work.
ayd 1d
orange skies were over our heads
The blood of what once was the future for us
Now seeps into my sheets
The stains are something that now

When someone lays with me, they’ll see it.
They’ll see how alive we could have been
how much time was spent
Where our future could have went

The way that we wanted, the life that we had started.
The seeds we planted
Something that could have only been imagined
Together, you and I

it could have been

im not sad
i promise.
I've accepted it.
we will never be friends again.
i fell in love with a friend. she told me a dream about her being trapped inside of this house and every single room she went in. she had to restart. until she eventually got out. and when she got out, it was beautiful, the sun was setting, the skies had an orange tint. ~
that same night, i had a dream about someone chasing me with a guy Fawkes mask. our dreams collided. now, we'll never share a bond that close again.
moon 1d
I just want to be able to live.

To wake up to the sun,
shined in between my windows.

To feel the wind touching my,
easily scarred skin.

To stand in between,
all these tall trees.

To stare at the sunset,
and how the sky's blue fades.

To watch the stars come out,
along with the moon by their side.

And to thought of how lucky I am,
to exist and witness.

God's ethereal painting,
and remarkable piece of art.

I am so lucky to be a human.
I am so lucky to be drawn on His beautiful canvas.
For when I thought I was lucky to exist. [ Nature is the only reason why I found this world a beautiful place. ] Well, this is just a very cliché poem about how much of a nature lover I am.

ㅡn.s
No matter how many sunsets or sunrises I see, they are as beautiful and individual as you and me.
They remind me you are watching over me, A love lost but a soul set free
v 2d
you are like:



                    a mirrored lake, everything below the surface.

           handwritten love letters and bright smiles.

     a quaint cottage surrounded by wilderness.

          the glimmering sand and burning sunsets.



               the whole night sky and everything beyond it.

          the force in the tide, the chill in the breeze.

     lingering glances and long drives.

lightning and thunder -

                                                -and everything-

                                                                                                      -in between.
~

Blue skies cuddle the
Yellow; caressing vivid
Pastel tenderness


~
All feedback is welcome. I took a picture of a sunset months ago, painted it last night for an art show in October. It made me wanna write about the colors, but I'm not so good with natural imagery, so I hope it's understandable. The vivid-ness is for the blue; the yellow's caressing the color, and the ending two words are the yellow, and how light it is against the strong blue... I don't know..
Lylock 5d
We care so much about sunsets
Just before something leaves us
We realise what we were missing
South Florida
if you were a body part
you’d be an armpit.

You’d be a bulged vein
on the side of a forehead
forever locked in a scowl
behind sunglasses.

You speak the language of horns
middle name, finger
your watch is an expensive time bomb

You're a boiling pot
sweating salt water at the brows
eyes red as the brake lights
in the maddening brightness,
you’re torrential daylight
heating nerves like greenhouse gasses
ready to explode.

You’re a comically colorful alcoholic drink
no one can afford
melting in place, impatient for attention
2 parts anger, 1 part stupidity,
full of yourself in a souvenir mug with a mini umbrella
You're all image

You’re the words breaking out the mouths
of the angry line mob at Starbucks in the morning
You’re the indifferent silence
in the arena at the Heat games leaving early,
showing up late
due to the distance
from Brickell to Hialeah,
West Palm to Pompano
the gap between the entitled and the under-paid
a skyline of condos in a third world country
You’ve always been foreign to me.

You’re winterless, no chill
you attract only hurricanes
and tourists,
shoving anything that isn’t expensive
out the way like the Irma storm debris
into the backyards of Liberty City,
Mount Trash Can on Sample Rd. and Turnpike
hidden beneath Bermuda grass, lined with palm trees
you’re cold blooded
crawling with iguanas
blood-sucking mosquitos
ducks not afraid to get run over
you get yours, Soflo
and you'll go as low
as the flat roofs of your duplexes
and the incomes that can barely pay for them
to get it
your latitude as attitude
temper as temperature
heat as hate
if you were a body part
I swear you’re an asshole

south of the brain, one hour
in all directions,
I’d find you.
You’d impose your way
onto my flight to the Philippines,
to Seattle, to Raleigh
You’d follow me like excess baggage,
like gravity,
pulling me to tell them that
I’m from you
that “Miami area”, I’d say
showing you off on their map
as if some badge of grit,
certificate of aggression
I know how to break a sweat
walk briskly, drive evasive
ride storms in my sleep
I know you, I’d say,
“He’s a friend of mine.”
and I’d watch them light up
They’ve heard so much about you
in the postcards you've sent them
of the sunrise
welcoming brown immigrants
onto white sand beaches
You were foreign to my parents
in the 80's, my wife in 2012
yet raised us as your own
in the furnace of your summers
edges sharpened, iron on iron
the forger striking softness into swords
built for survival
I'm made of you

my South Floridian anger cools down
in your ocean breeze

if you were a part of me
you’d be a socked foot in an And1 sandal
pressed to the gas pedal
as my drive takes me north
of your borders, far from home
I see you in the rear view
tailing close behind
like a sports car on the exit ramp
the color of the sun
i met you at sunset
when the hour was golden
and i forgot that life was a burden
and all i could think about
was you

— and the next minute, you disappeared, for you were a being of the golden hour. no more, no less.
"In all her goodbyes,
In all her sunsets,
the air smelled of
teas made of
love and
a pinch of freedom."
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