Spectrum

You can find solace in tender loving sighs like cold wind rattling; your drunken spirals of triangle tongues don't know where to begin. Waiting in empty spaces and crawling from cracks that no one knows. Mirrors pressed into your palms where prismatic chandeliers lay, within the folds of your very skin that hardens like clay. Waiting for voices to covet your lies; sepia toned pictures consumed by angled spires in your trachea, that swallow silently every time you lift your eyes and look away... Until the explosive din of milky predawn stars overtake your soul in a single whisper; and you can no longer drift into begging window panes like dust motes that hang in absolute zero within your prefrontal cortex. And you mold like yellow glue that forever crack in the soles of your time worn shoes. No one can ever say goodbye because you swallow their words like some vindictive lie as soon as you look away. Your mouth crumbles at their paper spines composed of red and white. You live this way until your hollow cavity lays within the folds of many planets' skin and the very blue of your bottom lip quivers with hues of distant moons. I thought I saw you in the rain, but the leaves trembled and your empty voice shook somewhere until I couldn't hear a word; the snowflakes slowly unlaced by every last drop until the crimson neon violets of your mind uncovered like spectrums of flower petals unfolding. I could hear your distant goodbye somewhere but the light was too loud for me to listen. 

~ Breezy