Are we moving pictures,
Silhouettes that float
Against the backdrop of the unknowable?
We try so hard to remember
And yet we’ve forgotten some of our stories,
Lost episodes whose fragments float aimlessly
As echoes in outer space.
When they’re heard,
If they’re heard,
I wonder if it will quicken the listener’s pulse
Or have we been so lucky to be one among few
To know of what words can do to the heart?
The future holds in its hands, nothing.
In the copious time I’ve held my gaze at it
All I see is this white place,
A docile sheet of paper laying on a desk.
Sometimes there are lines draw across it
As if tempting me to fill them with words I do not have.
Maybe that’s why I keep looking backwards,
And no, not in a simple glance over my shoulder either.
My entire being faces the past and everything it encompasses.
In it I see the riches of moments and the spoils of nostalgia.
It is quite a view.
I loved the day when the swords
fell from the sky
and you and I did nothing
but dance to avoid them
until we tangled into one.
Even in that illusion
I’ve never felt something so real.
And even if yours is a face
I’ll sinfully forget,
I’d hope that time is kind enough
to let this memory remain.
I only let go assuming I’d be back again.
As pieces of me
against the banks
of the past,
I look at myself
In a reflection
And wonder how much
Of the old me is left.
How much am I leaving behind,
What’s going to patch up
these torn edges?
There you are again,
As I find myself back pedaling
Whilst you are turned aside.
We are heading
In separate directions,
Away from the end of something special
Well, maybe just for me.
But this is not the end,
I say it in my head
And politely ask it of you
In my imaginary voice.
You must be someone
Who’s come from above,
For as I thought this prayer
I swear you could hear it.
To a person I miss, often and dearly.
Brave is the distance that separates the likes of us.
Us, who never could put together
A perfect sentence
That described what we were.
Us, a moment in time
Where you were just a smouldering ember
And I was the breath that tried
To not so subtly bring about a flame.
Us is no more,
But I think of you no less.
I am someone who always dreamed
We would be
No more than finger lengths away.
If there ever comes a day,
When you get tired of my words,
Please do say so.
I don’t wish to waste
Even an instance of your time.
There are only so many moments
We can be a part of,
So why spend it with me,
Someone who can only offer words
And not so much more.
Is there ever a time
Where you are not stuck
And me in today?
Is there a line where
The shadow lies on both our ends,
Where both our presents are one
And words bridge the distance?
This is something I wrote 5 months ago and I’m not really sure why I never posted it… But here it is 🙂
But really you don’t know
How every night I sigh your name
And the silence that follows aches beyond belief.
I wish you knew how I still think
Of a hundred different things
I might have done differently
But it makes me afraid,
That something done differently
Could change too much.
I will not ride the time machine
Even if there was one.
I’ve exchanged too many words
And written too many stories,
I can’t let them go to waste.
I think I’ll hold on to them
And see that I don’t let go.
Are you the hand,
That I will hold onto
When the dark is too dark,
When the light is too blinding,
And my heart needs reminding
That I will never be alone?
Are you the hand,
That will softly wipe away
All the tears trembling down,
All the sand stuck in my brows,
Once I collapse into the ground?
Or is the hand you reach out now
The one that splits the choking air
And gently rests across my face?
Is this the time and is this place
That tenderness will forever remain?