Sunsets are still singing to me, curving their long arms around my chest, clutching my heart then breaking into its monotonus twirling. The colours turn from talkative to serene to complete stillness. They speak into me the life that I have lost by fulfilling my now-resented dreams.
What I hate most about my life is what I love most about my life.
From disconnected to blissfully aware, from sorrowful to as joyous as a kindergarten, from that who I am to that who I dream to become.
But I’m building- bricks are thrown with a hasty heart and with a darkened and obsessive mind. I’m holding- with the rage and cry and stubbornness of a wild thing that is being told he’s too old for hunting.
I’m dying and coming alive, cursing the same things I love most.
Sunrises are still springing gradens inside me.
They make me wake and tender. They rose all the thoughts that yesterday were hurting.
Walk me, my love of life! I have been always your only path.