Honey coloured skin
Glimmer;
As the light catches the lighting strikes
In your hair.
Lips like rosebuds perfectly formed
In a pout as you get annoyed with me.
But as you smile, the sweetest kiss
Forms in the corner of your mouth.
I want to pick the honeysuckle,
Place it behind your ear
So the bees want to be around you,
Except they already do.
Your laugh could break the coldest of men,
The darkest pits of depression turn bright,
With one giggle.
You are a breath of fresh air in this sad and gloomy world.
YOU ARE READING
How I Became the Sun
PoetryA poetry collection about learning how to become the sun after my struggles with past trauma, love, heartbreak, and the hardest struggle of learning to love myself. "Life has hurt me but I still love life"
