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(no subject)
[i]
I find myself chasing the ghost of you;
my fingers pressing against the fragile surface of my soul as the wind howls outside my window.
You used to keep me warm--
yet now, in the magic hours of the early morning
the fire has gone out and I am shivering in the ashes of what forever used to mean.
I am haunted by the whisper of you sliding against my skin
and sometimes I still think you hold my heart in your hands.
But the cold has frosted over the windows of you
and I am left like a child, pressing my nose against the glass and trying to breathe you in.
I try to forget that you're gone, but the breeze
whistling through the trees is like the sound of your voice
and the echoes of all the good-byes I never wanted to say.
Sometimes I feel the imprint of your hands in my hair and wonder
who the real ghost is.
[ii]
It was in you that I discovered the hues of forgotten horizons
and paint splattered our hands as we struggled to color our world.
We are so afraid of forgetting, picking up the stones
of our childhood and putting them in our bags
and I never realized how heavy our pockets had become
until I couldn't step forward.
We climbed our mountains side by side in silent solitude while grasping each other through the rainbow afterimages branded on the back of our eyelids from looking at the sun for too long.
In the end we might be blind, but we never really needed eyes to see.
[iii]
You bring the world to me on dust-coated fingertips, and when I think of you I always imagine cherry blossoms raining down on your hair.
There are times when I cradle your name in the cup of my palms
and smear the colors of you against the jagged edges of my life
because you make them beautiful.
Sometimes I honestly believe that you have caressed unicorns
and clung to the backs of dragons,
dark eyes shining with the implicit understanding of your world.
I often think I dreamed you because my world doesn't have such colors
and you are like nothing I have ever seen before.
[iv]
You held me in misty half-life moments and watched as I grew into the burdens of myself.
I long to run my hands over your face,
brushing over cheekbones and the expanse of your mouth
because you were there I first discovered understanding and I want to understand you,
to dip myself inside the essence of you and find out what makes you so addictive.
You are a craving now, holding onto the edges of my soul and if I asked
I think you would take me apart.
You are more and less than everything I ever thought of you, and I wonder if in your heart I'll discover where forever went.
I find myself chasing the ghost of you;
my fingers pressing against the fragile surface of my soul as the wind howls outside my window.
You used to keep me warm--
yet now, in the magic hours of the early morning
the fire has gone out and I am shivering in the ashes of what forever used to mean.
I am haunted by the whisper of you sliding against my skin
and sometimes I still think you hold my heart in your hands.
But the cold has frosted over the windows of you
and I am left like a child, pressing my nose against the glass and trying to breathe you in.
I try to forget that you're gone, but the breeze
whistling through the trees is like the sound of your voice
and the echoes of all the good-byes I never wanted to say.
Sometimes I feel the imprint of your hands in my hair and wonder
who the real ghost is.
[ii]
It was in you that I discovered the hues of forgotten horizons
and paint splattered our hands as we struggled to color our world.
We are so afraid of forgetting, picking up the stones
of our childhood and putting them in our bags
and I never realized how heavy our pockets had become
until I couldn't step forward.
We climbed our mountains side by side in silent solitude while grasping each other through the rainbow afterimages branded on the back of our eyelids from looking at the sun for too long.
In the end we might be blind, but we never really needed eyes to see.
[iii]
You bring the world to me on dust-coated fingertips, and when I think of you I always imagine cherry blossoms raining down on your hair.
There are times when I cradle your name in the cup of my palms
and smear the colors of you against the jagged edges of my life
because you make them beautiful.
Sometimes I honestly believe that you have caressed unicorns
and clung to the backs of dragons,
dark eyes shining with the implicit understanding of your world.
I often think I dreamed you because my world doesn't have such colors
and you are like nothing I have ever seen before.
[iv]
You held me in misty half-life moments and watched as I grew into the burdens of myself.
I long to run my hands over your face,
brushing over cheekbones and the expanse of your mouth
because you were there I first discovered understanding and I want to understand you,
to dip myself inside the essence of you and find out what makes you so addictive.
You are a craving now, holding onto the edges of my soul and if I asked
I think you would take me apart.
You are more and less than everything I ever thought of you, and I wonder if in your heart I'll discover where forever went.
no subject
I haven't seen this in your work in a while, to be honest.
no subject
What was too repetitive? I'll try and fix it.
no subject
Send me an e-mail or I'm forcing you to tell me tomorrow.
You seem melancholy tonight.