WyattHaste
3 years ago1,000+ Views
Her Blue Skies
She was the bluest sky. A beautiful lie. Love and pleasure, sunshine torn by stormy weather. Cold December but as giving as mid November. She was cool and calm, with an attitude explosive as an atom bomb. She was real and she was blue. There's was never a time her lies hadn't come true. She'd replaced silence with noise and I believe every hour spent with her was always pure joy. She's an amazing woman but I am just a boy. There's no relation. Every attempt of conversation is blocked by some random complication. Why do I forget how to talk every time I walk in her eyes. I get lost in my words before I can even make them rhyme. .
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"how to talk everytime I walk in her eyes." Interesting imagery, yet again#
3 years ago·Reply
I love prose poems! I think it may be one of my favorite types of poetry to write. That's my favorite line, too, @timeturnerjones.
3 years ago·Reply
@WyattHaste I'm actually super curious about how you chose the image with the trees!
3 years ago·Reply
I downloaded a bunch of pictures to help make it stand out and this one I don't know just fit how it was a lot of chaos but still the peacefulness in the sky.
3 years ago·Reply
I'm glad I asked! That makes a lot of sense now that I look at it again.
3 years ago·Reply
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