Dear diary,
It's August again.
The sun has quietened down,
and so has my heart.
The most peaceful time of the year,
are August afternoons spent with cups of sweet tea.
☻︎♡︎
Dear diary,
Life is beautiful again.
The monotonous journey has taken a break,
And everything has become shades of happiness.
Days are warm and serene,
And I believe this comes close to heaven.
☻︎♡︎
Dear diary,
I think I am happy.
Atleast for now.
Atleast for August.
And I hope this stays.
If not forever, then atleast for a while.
☻︎♡︎
Dear diary,
You are going to be filled with stories and love.
You are going to be full of wonder and joy.
It's August again,
and we've both come to life.
Like the soft hues of ink on your pages,
my heart has begun to see the world in cotton candy colors.
☻︎♡︎
Dear diary,
And August my love,
We shall have the most beautiful times together.
It's the light brown color of my tired sighs and the warm pink of my sleepy snores. The monotonous rambling of my mind brings to life the precious olive green in my soul. The songs I know by heart, that are always at the tip of my lips, shines in a soft earthy brown glow. If there was a colour to describe the way my heart swells everytime I watch the sun go down in the far horizon, it would be a mild beige tinted with a pretty rosy flavour. And when I look at myself in the mirror, when I see the person I have become, I can see the turquoise of my soul smiling softly over my head. I don't know what color my aura is but all that matters is how beautifully I glow when I smile at myself.
Brown for the earth's child that I am, that I always was.
Pink for the pretty parts in me that I've started to fall in love with.
Green for my soul that has slowly started healing from within.
Beige for the ways I am always there for me.
Turquoise for how much alive I am and how beautiful it is to create and grow like I do now.
What is your color palette at this point in your life?
Love is so strange.
It's different for different people.
And it's different during different seasons.
It was a summer afternoon in May,
when I loved someone for the very first time.
I felt like somebody had sprinkled fairy dust inside me.
It felt all tingly and sparkly and good in every way.
Then autumn came and it was September,
when you said you loved me for the first time.
I knew what butterflies felt like in my tummy.
A beautiful cool sensation, jittery yet so magical.
But soon after, winter visited as well.
I was left alone on the park bench,
in the midst of December,
while you held her hand and walked away.
The fairy dust of the summer,
started choking me up.
I ran home and closed the bathroom door.
And ended up puking all over.
I guess those were the butterflies I felt in Autumn,
now all dead and garbage.
As I waited for the winter to pass,
I dreaded the arrival of summer.
I didn't want no more fairy dust and butterflies.
All I wanted was to be me again.
To stop feeling dead and grey all the time.
It was February suddenly,
and I was walking to my favourite coffee shop.
I hadn't been there in a while,
and I missed it like anything.
Half way through my favourite book,
you stumbled upon me and fell.
We smiled and apologized,
and I extended my hand out to you.
It was when you grabbed my outstretched hand,
that I suddenly remembered spring existed as well.
© Moonyloonywitch
10/08/2021
watching you on, but from afar
I wouldn't have known, If I should choose to go
Someone make my mind up for me,
Somehow.
-s's.