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I can't keep holding on to a dream made of pins and needles.
Pricking my fingertips to keep the spark of idealism alight,
making sure happiness doesn't die with you.

Looking up through the leaves, I saw the brooding clouds of truth blot you out;
silent in it's destructive incapacitating ways as it destroyed the facade-
left wondering what went wrong.

Fatigue intrudes my bones, pulling me down to the forest floor.
Suffocated sunbeams wrestling through the thick clouds,
only to miss my face.

A sinking feeling made me droop more, laying down in the moss covered dirt.
Brown weathered leaves stuck to my locs.

Disjointed reverie joined hands with etheral dissonance as sprouts of memory pushed through my conscious mind-
Shadows of who you formally were to me haunt my near hysterical mindscape, as shadows of branches cast across my face.
Yet I physically freeze in summer's afternoon.

The sunbeams finally lost their fight, drowning beneath the blankets of clouds, droplets rocketing down to earth.

And how underneath my eyes, it rains-
as I had yet again lost my sun.


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© Rynne

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