to the sunflower:
I always thought of you like the Sun. Radiating all that life and enthusiasm and energy, unceasing. But a young sun. One that had only given life, that had not yet witnessed death. A beaming radiant ball too happy, too innocent, too pure.
We all have to die to live. It's just that one taste of melancholy. Death opens your eyes to how many shades a single flower can have. How it's pretty in the light, but even more beautiful in the dark, where all you see are shadows and outlines, where you're left to miss, to imagine the colours of daytime.
memories like bullets, they fire at me like a gun
You see the same world in a slightly different, slightly tinted lens. As you continue to swim, you'll choke on the salt water from time to time. The water will sting your eyes, make you tear, make you blind. You'll drown a little. Your muscles will cramp up.
I swim for brighter days despite the absence of sun
But with each time you hit the dark bottom, you remember the beauty of the light shining through the calm waters. Darkness makes light so much sweeter. This is only the first flash of darkness. Blackout.
The light begins to come on again, slowly, as the bulb heats up. There's all the darkness slowly crawling away, but just a millisecond, a hair's breath away. It will creep up on you again, slowly, when you're alone and unsuspecting. Appreciate the beauty of day. Let the darkness add depth to your light.
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