Maybe I am a ghost building
being painted darker and darker as the sun shrivels,
And you are the evening that sets twilight inside my empty vaults,
Or maybe I am the broken window of a forsaken house in the hills,
And you are the raindrops drenching my rusted iron bars,
Maybe you are the hurricane and I am the tree that stands still, gawking at your untamed beauty, holding myself still,
but then, you brush against me and my heart sinks while I try to catch my breath and gather my fallen leaves,
Maybe you are the night and I am just a street light watching people pass by, while they bask in your breeze stripping their minds, spilling secrets in dry puddles along the road,
May be you are the purple of the sunset and I am the grey of an abandoned street,
or perhaps, you are the whole universe and I am just a crushed flower sinking in an ocean, everywhere looking for you.
whentherainechoed 