12/29/22:
The melancholic buzz of my alarm waking me up in my lilac dreams.
I woke up around 6:00, spent my morning with a sunflower smile, lavender dreams that are still canned fragrance inside my head.
The thin air hugged me as if it were alive.
I would open the curtains, my eyes acted like a mirror reflecting the sun rays and fogging it up with ashed particles of air.
My clouds would sigh after drinking coffee.
I'd sand my wooden nails before touching the burnt paper, grabbed my quill and wrote the things inside my head like I was a pen flickering words of gold and tranquillity.
Some handwritten books soaked in the smell of old dresses, just laying in the cabinets of my open-wounds, reading it as if I were in a dream.
The words of brilliance and tranquillity will forever be buried in my wounds, having the last letters in the edge of my petaled tongue, keeping those last breaths in my pomegranate lungs.
In the afternoon, I would blend my colors like I would blend the moon and sun.
I would part my hair like I would part the seas.
I would stitch my wounds like I would weave dresses.
For I want those brewed sunsets kept in my wounds like I want the apricot sunset sceneries always seen in my barreled eyes.
This day felt like spring.
Having the breath of sun rays fog up my curtains like my breath fogging up mirrors.
Perhaps my wounds felt like autumn, but I was excited for a rainbow that I wound never achieve.
©sarah_
J