My brother once told me that if I whistled at the northern lights
they would take my soul away
I’m the evening of dark times.
To whistle so loudly that the world would stop to
Hear the sound of soullessness.
Green and blue are cyan to my eyes. No matter the stars
Surrounding the movement of shadows.
Your heart reaches for stars and the sun blocks out the
Even though, after time, it’s
a broken soul surrounded by blue. And the shades of red
Dancing in the dark gets old,
For I am weak too.
The green tiles of sun abruptly
Shine. Effortless in pain and numb again.
To your wishes
Of soullessness. And