March 11th, 2019: untitled

I saw a man standing on the corner

The corner was very close to my home

He was holding on to something

Tight in his hand

I could see red, yellow, blue, and green.

The colors of balloons

The colors of…you

The twine, the gray twine, was tightly wrapped around his weakened wrist

Slowly, ever so slowly

Unravel from his hand the twine did

Each color was released into the abyss

Fading as the sun was drifting across the milky clouds, smearing butterscotch and gold in my reflection

Never coming back

Traveling until the tiny specks of color turned to sky

Only to vanish

Eventually to pop

It’s sad story

It’s true

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