wouldn’t it be nice.

november 18th, 2018 — 3:30 pm.

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it was there by the lake then,

when your bittersweet cheeks caught fire.

bundled in coats and cardigans to keep you caged.

it was cold and melancholy.

grey shades isolated the sun’s rays.

eerie was the waters with blues my views could never undo,

and with the lights we had,

i could tell you were beautiful.

silvery pinks danced on top of dotted floors and wooden lights,

a club i could spend all my nights in.

it was there my devil’s fled.

it was after my god’s chased.

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it was there by the lake later,

when your bittersweet cheeks started decaying.

you were no longer bundled but finally free.

it was hot and melancholy.

sun rays broke through grey shades.

turmoil was the waters with fluorescents my sights could never unsee,

and with the lights we had,

i was blinded by your blossoming.

a dichotomy of being who you once were, while blooming into what is to come.

two forces brought together causing tumult.

it was there my devil’s fought.

it was after my god’s defended.

---

it is there by the lake now,

your bittersweet cheeks are gone.

you are bundled in whatever you want to be.

it is warm and melancholy.

grey shades share the sun rays evenly.

serene is the waters with hues my eyes have never seen,

and with the light i had,

i refracted all of it.

a misconstrued photosynthesis, while you took in CO2 and produced O2,

i became weeds longing to be trees.

it was there my devils and gods met.

it is now my angels and demons shake hands.