When the dull skies crept in, they veiled the brightness in my eyes.
My will to love was obstructed by the same darkness that sealed my inevitable fate.
I'll vulnerably admit that I continued to search for you despite the irrevocable truth.
Despite the brisk and misty fog that made you vanish from my grasp,
I continued to search for you throughout the lively crowded streets we once set foot upon.
When you left my universe, my weary eyes turned grey, threatening
To unleash a relentless downpour at the thought of your face.
My anguish resembled a double edged sword,
Puncturing my dying heart with lethal jabs at every turn.
I wish I knew how to satisfy my melancholic thougths.
I wish that our short-lived story ended at "The End".
I wish the sky belonged to me, so that I can make it rain upon your glowing skin.
Only then would you truly sense my sorrow.
But wishing for ownership of the sky would be like wishing you'd belong to me. Impossible.
So instead, I'll stick to wondering if you still think of me.