The Boy with Golden Honey Hair
Isabelle Benavides
A pillow fight sits in my conscience mind;
As a reminder of a boy who was once by my side.
A once happy memory that sticks to me;
as golden honey in the combs of bumble bees.
Feathers from the pillow fight were carried through the breeze
And for the first time in my life my worries felt as though they had freezed;
As the boy with golden honey hair picked me up and carried me
Someone I loved but could not seem to please.
The feathers made it seem like such a moment could only be a dream;
The boy with golden honey hair was as tender as a sunbeam reflecting on a river stream.
The safety I felt is what made me laugh,
Not the pillows in itself but the way I hadn’t felt like that.
They say when you fall in love you know but cannot describe
It is that moment that will always make me try;
Yet the boy with golden honey hair shifted the world in my eyes
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