july 24, 2016

i've never been one for fireworks.
i've never been in love with something so loudly beautiful;
i've never been able to love someone so loudly beautiful
so forgive me when i cringe with every explosion.

i find myself instead whispering into the leaves of dying trees
and mesmerized by the rainbow gleaming off of broken glass bottles because they remind me that broken glass is still beautiful;
broken things are still beautiful;
broken people are still beautiful.
light still comes through purposefully broken skin and hollowed out minds.
darling, you are too beautiful to be this dark inside and maybe it will just take a few more breaks and scrapes until the light will penetrate your bones and turn your scars into step stools that you use to propel yourself towards the sky.
you've always been in love with the moon, but he is just a fraction of the radiance of the sun.
let go.