…don’t rhyme anymore

Our colours don’t rhyme anymore
and sorrow’s soft refrain is already echoing
in the deepening emptiness, gently beckoning to me
I have mixed emotions constantly shifting
back and forth between opposing realities
shades of blue, shades of black
now all that remains of the spectrum
as I stand here alone, barefoot and broken
the light is finally fading, just as I have been fading
unknowingly losing myself
slowly becoming a part of the dark
I am struggling to remember
who I am, who I used to be
and to come to terms with who I will become
I struggle to understand how I ended up here
and in this pivotal moment
I feel a soft touch upon my hand
and my heart skips a beat
I look down and I see a bright, light butterfly
resting gently, in my palm
her fragile wings, slowly beating
resonating in the moonless darkness
of my aching soul
in the subterranean labyrinth of my broken heart
in the dark void of my endless night
and I finally allow myself to be broken
all that I have lost now shattered into a thousand pieces
floating slowly around me, with that one lonely butterfly
and the gentle wind from her wings
somehow comforts me
in this moment in time it comes to me
that I can paint my own colours
and I don’t need you to complete me
for you are now just something that I have left behind
© Ann Bagnall