Aching Crimson
In altering hues of crimson weathers I once knew I brewed golden..
Staring at my feet, unable to move.
Stuck. I realized.
Parts of me were really rusting copper in time..
Self doubt and criticism came like gusts
The wind in my hair blurred my vision,
it didn’t matter if you were looking over me..
I stood there like a stationery cloud in a windy
sky ..
Too stubborn to move, fading, depleting...
My heart ached crimson in the end,
With a silver lining.. You.
Still looking over me.
