Minutes

I can feel every minute creeping by,
as I try to relive every minute detail about you.
I can feel every minute biting my mind,
as I try to chew every minute I have to spend in reality.

The world in my dream is like pale blue rose petals. Serenity and tranquility on a silver platter.

It is when I open my eyes that I learn,
rose petals wither fast under the sun,
pale blue sky scorches my eyes,
and silver platter turns dull when used.

So I close my eyes to this world,
and withdraw myself into an alternate universe,
in which you are well and alive,
in which you wake up next to me.

In which I can absorb every minute detail of your being every single minute of my life,
without fearing that I would lose you,
without having to chase your shadow.

In which pale blue rose petals blossom every morning and never wither,
and when they are sun-kissed they turn into droplets of morning dew gathered on a bright silver platter.

04 MAY 2016, 04:12 pm

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