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Breaking Apart/Mid April
May 2, 2024
I thought it would it’d stay the
same. Sun lingering on my body,
A slight breeze in support.
Until I saw the end, and
you became a stranger.
Maybe it was the dark clouds or chance of rain,
but I couldn’t keep my eyes away.
I was deceived by impression masked as affection.
How can butterflies turn into geese?
The fact I miss the breeze,
It’s still here, isn’t it?
Agonizing, the knowledge of what could happen
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When you look outside and half the sky is stormy and the other half is sunny. Why do you only focus on the stormy side?