Softness.. or so I'd like to think.. that sometimes I can feel it. gulp and eye twitching.. I feel it often.
Sometimes I sit and I wonder: this world would have been better off with a tiny bit of laughter, but instead they hide the sweetness and they call it a blunter.
Yellow, do you love it? Do you love the sun? Do you love a shade that brings the heat on the skin... the shade that signifies the dew? Those car rides you have that are rare and fair... you remember it, don't you? That small sparkle... you remember the drinks you drank... the air you breathed... the memories you can't seek.
I love yellow; it's weird, right? Yellowy yellow likes to yell "oh," but the point of the shade isn't the comfort... it's the bright stars.
*feet move a bit*
The demeanor is the next step. The wait in the wind.
Yellow, you saw the start, didn't you? You saw the start, right, yellow? The womb opening...
I wanna feel it, yellow... can I feel it again? Can everyone feel it again, yellow?
You were blinded, weren't you, from the start... from the first note... from the first frequency...
*choirs singing... feelings subdue... the hum begins*
A name and stamps are placed on suns; I don't understand it.