Blue Sunrises
The terrified clouds roll in from the jagged coasts, its eyes shimmering with mortal realization. The light is dim, like the love hidden in this collapsed society. The sunrays beam through like real love every now and again, shining brightly in small little spaces, fleeting and impermanent. Souls wash up on the shore, clutching for land, sand, stability of any kind, clawing for land as the water tries so hard to pull us back in. Some let go. Some take others, but no one will win.
The sky is blue, but not the kind of blue it usually feels like. Not the kind of blue that fills you with warmth, or the kind of blue that holds promises of all kinds. No, this sky is blue if only because the only black is deep blue. Blue like black, blue like a bruise, and these bruises cover our body. The sun is not so bright, not so loving. It’s these blue sunrises I see when I open my eyes in the morning, every single day.
It’s these blue sunrises I see when I go down the street. it’s these blue sunrises I see when I close my eyes, when I speak my mind, and when I weep for the fleeting sand. It’s these blue sunrises that ruin everything. The eyes will flash, the chest will ache, the legs will fail, and I will fall. I’d like to think that there are a million different problems with my chest, but it’s nothing more than terrible heartbreak.
I tire of the blue sunrise. I’m waiting for the sun to break through, so each one of us hopeless hangers-on can at least see how pretty everything is before the wave crashes over and takes us in. I did once, but it’s been so long that I don’t even think it really happened. I’m begging to get a handhold on a rock, and hold on so very long. It’s the tide that chills to the bone, the pull that causes the ache, and all that I see is shaded in blue.
The sky is blue, but not the kind of blue it usually feels like. Not the kind of blue that fills you with warmth, or the kind of blue that holds promises of all kinds. No, this sky is blue if only because the only black is deep blue. Blue like black, blue like a bruise, and these bruises cover our body. The sun is not so bright, not so loving. It’s these blue sunrises I see when I open my eyes in the morning, every single day.
It’s these blue sunrises I see when I go down the street. it’s these blue sunrises I see when I close my eyes, when I speak my mind, and when I weep for the fleeting sand. It’s these blue sunrises that ruin everything. The eyes will flash, the chest will ache, the legs will fail, and I will fall. I’d like to think that there are a million different problems with my chest, but it’s nothing more than terrible heartbreak.
I tire of the blue sunrise. I’m waiting for the sun to break through, so each one of us hopeless hangers-on can at least see how pretty everything is before the wave crashes over and takes us in. I did once, but it’s been so long that I don’t even think it really happened. I’m begging to get a handhold on a rock, and hold on so very long. It’s the tide that chills to the bone, the pull that causes the ache, and all that I see is shaded in blue.
posted by MaSuTa at 6/27/2007 06:27:00 PM
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