Georgia stole the drugs in the glovebox
and traded them for passage. I don't
remember Texas. I barely remember
you.
Perhaps it’s because I miss you, the real you
or the thought of you.
It’s not like I know the difference.
There’s a certain appeal to the bruise colored haze at the bottom
of a six-pack. She sits
on the kitchen floor, knees bent
out at acute angles, shuddering shoulder
blades pressing against skin
until the fine human film splits
and she falls – splits down the center
like the bottom of the Colorado mountain valleys we hiked last spring.
The skin of her cheeks would flush in the brisk mornings and I, alone,
learned every shade of tension stretched through her shoulders
when she’d bend
over to wash her hair in the stream.
Like the willow tree bends: graceful
limbs reaching to touch a quivering reflection.
Fear and terror
hopes and dreams
a smile so bright
and aspirations so right
stiching together the seams
of a brand new life.
You linger in the scent of
Midnight...
Soaked in your presence
And absence...
Where you laid left
Lasting warmth...
In these longing arms,
Tender hands...
I wait patiently for another
Morning...
When my soul melts in
Yours like water...
Once again.
I want to be in your arms forever,
Resting my head on your lovely chest
I want to be a baby again
In your warm cuddle and embrace
My heart aches everynight I cry myself to sleep, When I have the thought that you aren't mine to keep.
My heart aches every morning my notifications are baron, and so are my arms. All I can do is keep caring for your attitude and your charms.
Everytime I hear a bird coo, or when I even put on my shoe, all I can think of is how
My Heart Aches For You.
I'm walking by a place,
A place that has lost its reason to walk by.
Now I look at it with a somber face and a heavy heart.
I do recall the times i was here,
the joy and cause I had to visit here.
But its not those reasons that make me low.
Not the nostolgiac talks or even the cause of the past that weighs on my soul.
It is the joy of then, and lack of it now that brings me low.
The smiles that were, the smiles that aren't and smiles that could have been
The smiles that could have been.
Now instead I walk falsely,
to make light of what weighs heavy.
To make light of what weighs heavy.
I hold my head a little higher, stand a little straighter,
work a little harder; work a little too hard.
Joke a little more, laugh a little louder and smile,
Smile a little too much.
To make light of what weighs heavy at the place I'm walking by.
I keep showing up on
your doorstep when you’re
not home
I try to thread our web of
memories through a
needle that’s too small
I keep gazing
through gaps in the
cape you’ve thrown over
your shoulders so I
can’t touch you again
I laugh so
often but I can’t see
myself crying for anything
but you
I try to redraw our fading
photograph on so many different
kinds of paper until
my fingers are raw and
bleeding
I wake at the
exact minutes I remember
something happening, like
11:19.05, the almost magic in the
water that night
I almost hold your
flaws higher than
your perfections, but then
I can’t remember either of
them, just the
way you looked
at me
I keep
forgetting that
your address has changed when I
want to send
you letters and
spoonfuls of time
I nurse my bad
habits because I
don’t know how
to give them away
I keep
forgetting that
you don’t own me anymore