Sunset (July) and Sunrise (November) - 2 companion poems written months apart about being in love and being heartbroken
You listen to a lot more Elliott Smith while walking toward the last blush of red in the darkening sky, as if you intended to ask it to stay, as if it weren't an impossible task. Your innards are liable to burst at all times. You are filled with unhealthy, simultaneous portions of beauty and wretchedness. All right. This is the second poem. It is called Sunrise, and it was written in November. Being heartbroken makes you do strange things