But by chance, I see his hands both bare and gleaming silver,
both dusted with moonlight, and tinged with stardust alike,
and so I ask him, “Why must you keep such beauty hidden?”,
and the tears which fall from his heavenly eyes seem to glimmer
from gentle gratitude.
I call him beautiful, for that is what he is,
bathed in morning dew and light alike,
shining in the midst of an eternal night.
I hold him as he cries,
and I soothe his troubled sighs
with feathery kisses
over closed eyes.
At times, he is tearful, frightened, lonely and lost,
and though I wish to stay, he makes sure to send me away,
fearing for my life, and for what my company must cost.
If you have access to the images, you’ll notice that Fragment VIII is labelled as VII. Frankly, I am unaware of how that escaped my attention.
Quite often, I look back on what I write. I look back on myself too, but with self-loathing and spite. Some days are better than most others, and I’m still in the process of learning that it’s okay to take a break. That it’s okay to forgive myself.
Truthfully, it’s been very difficult. But, the burden of waiting until your dreams are realised? It’s immense. It’s far more suffocating than most people believe it to be, and I find myself quite envious of those who’ve managed to establish themselves at an early age.
Until happier days come, it’ll be a routine of rewind and replay.
Thank you for reading!
If you’d like to follow me on Instagram, click here to be redirected to my account.
23/04/2019 – 04/05/2019.