Inadequate

I thought I had control.
That each day I woke up,
I understood the dew and the way the sun reflected through
Prisms.

When I stretched my arms wide, I was alone.
The world was a beautiful canvas,
and I recognized every stroke.

I saw the sunsets
and I took a picture,
added a caption
and dwelt in its meaning.
Blazing red.

How superficial.

Do you understand yet?
Riddled by my stories.

Life was a crisp, cool morning.
Directly after dawn.
But dulled.

My eyes, my heart
They show me the glory of a full day.
From the salty fog, to the burning sun.
To happiness that hurts.
Relinquished behind the spindly branches of a shadowed tree.

Because you introduced me to a life so brilliant,
it hurts.