Writer: Farida Ahmed
He’s December’s rain, more of a thunderstorm. He hails with his thunderstorms and treacherous lightenings. He’s a pathogen slithering it’s way inside me, scrutinizing for my weak spots and I’m infected for the long run. He carves apocalypses on my bones. It’s like he struck me with lightning and im a third person watching myself, with nothing in my hands to do. His grinning smiles feel like a hurricane planting out the flowers and buried hopes i grew into the deepest tunnels of my soul. He’s spontaneous gusts of wind ruffling through my body, urging goosebumps to raise on my skin and i have no warm clothes on. He’s a trail of chaotic riots spiraling in my veins. He’s many, many shades of catastrophic, cold hues.
I’m fiery auras of engulfing passion. I’m a warm day of picnics on a sandy beach. I’m strands of blinding sun slithering its way through the window to wake you up. I’m the warm hugs and the raspy laughs under the stars. I’m the hurried looks of incurable love. I’m that peculiar moment where the whole world stops when two eyes lock, and millions feelings spill. I’m electrifying happiness and beautifully tanned skin. I’m an adventurous journey and a melancholic, silent road trip. I’m moments of intense euphoria of hearts melting and hot tears of finally obtaining what you’ve always wanted. Im the weather after the rain where you’re all snuggled up in your blanket, reading your favorite novel with tears streaming down your face. I’m fireplaces and lullabies and footprints on sand. Im
Im many, many shades of cosy, burning hues.
he’s cold and i burn,
i guess ill never learn.
