growing wings | Completed

14. a thousand sunsets

     she and i sit under the same sky, yet i cannot see the stars anymore.

     a sky full of inky blackness, broken trust and glassy eyes.

     maybe it's because at 2 a.m. i cannot sleep, i cannot breathe, and i cannot live.

     my ribs feel like they collapse into my chest, and my lungs are filled with sunflowers like color of her eyes.

      maybe it's because when i look into the mirror, i don't see me anymore. i don't see a human anymore.

     i only see fragments of could-have-beens.

      am i supposed to meticulously hold these shards of glass, that are tainted red, and put them back into place?

     am i supposed to smile the same way i used to, the same way the moon rises and the sun sets?

     am i supposed to breathe as easily as the way a bird flies into the sky, free from the ground?

      i'm trying to progress here, 

     not digress.      

      sleep tempts me, lulling my eyelids to close, yet i seem to keep them wide open.

      i stare at a wall, my mind an anxiety inducing hell.

      fatigue decorates my eyes, and i want to shut my eyes and sleep. sleep. sleep.

     yet i cannot.

      if i lay down, and maybe just maybe my eyes will flutter close and butterflies will set upon my eyelids, bleeding their blues onto my red.

      yet my eyes remain open, and my breaths are shallow.

      the dark turns to light, and it is morning again.

      maybe that is why she is concerned for me.

      maybe that is why there is concern emanating from her fingertips as they barely touch my shoulder.

      maybe that is why her lips draw slightly apart,

      her eyes a thousand sunsets.

      and like any other day, i see her again.

      from glimpses in a hallway,

     to sideway glances, hushed hello's and muted smiles.

      and like any other afternoon, i see her again.

      the grass is still warm, yet the sun is setting.

      she is far from near me, yet i feel as though she is right beside me,

     and i feel content pool at my stomach.

      maybe it was because she told me she wanted to see me happy,

     or maybe because she said my eyes reminded her of a thousand sunrises.

      - a thousand sunsets