I used to like moonlight over sunlight
But long since I met your soul that day
I preferred breakfast over dinner
I opt for the sun more than the moon
When I beheld a vibrant art such as your face
I knew I was in trouble
Because how do you compare a piece of art like you
To me? An art that is demoralized, hollow and crestfallen

 

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Seasonal changes.

It’s summer
The brown leaves fell off the trees
In unison with how I fell for you.

It’s halloween
The kids are terrified of horror movies
As much as how terrified I am of losing you.

It’s winter
The streets are filled with snow and the breeze is cold
Kind of like how you talk to me now—cold and blunt.

It’s all souls day
The day to remind us of the people who are dead
But in my state, it’s a day to evoke that you and what
we used to have is long dead and gone