We were planets dwelling in each other's galaxies burning our essences upon each other's souls flickering and guiding each other home while the moon was a place we'd gaze upon our love held us in place like gravity as our rotations symbolizes us dancing through space for we became space itself the celestial plane denied us divinity yet we still found each other with help of the all mighty
The love, I once wrote for myself on the autumn leaves, is fleeting with the hope of no returns.There have been several ludicrous attempts, to stitch my life with tangerine along with fuscous threads, expecting the rainbows, droplets of water and petrichor will embrace the blues in my veins but the green leaves never accepted my dried and old skin.
The once undying metaphors and mellifluous verses are now slipping through my palms like warm and light sand, now I'm afraid to sit alone on the shore, now I'm afraid to hold my own hands for self assurance, now I'm afraid to dive into the deep ocean of poetry.
I have never felt uneasy with cold moonlight on my skin, but the thought of old glistening touch of moon have always made me restless.
I consumed the comeliness of galaxies, breathed in the fresh breeze, gulped in the flowing rivers, spritzed the oil of flowers and worn the crown of colourful leaves, to become immortal.
I failed, I'm falling and now I'm freezing with no hope of being my young and carefree self.
"It drives you crazy getting old" "It feels so scary getting old" ~ Lorde, Ribs.