Breathing your Sunlight

In the year before I loved you:
I was in a morbid delirium
A polar frame of diamonds and coal
Call it convenience of the ugliness in me

In the year before I loved you:
My throat was an open grave, a great picture,
drowning Ophelia in a heart puree.
A subconscious flurry of bitterness

In the year I met you:
My world turned pastel pink
Simplicity of what you did for me.
In the end becoming my reason to try.

In the year I met you:
The music did not stop.
The red apple poisoned no longer.
My sleeping beauty awakens.