Friday, June 14, 2013

I am a pair of keys and a sock.

I’ve been focused on writing about myself so often,
 I’ve seem to forgotten the poetry written on your face,
The way it just rolls down your cheek bones in streams of liquid nitrogen that just seem to freeze me,
Dropping to the grass in the nonexistent moonlight,
The stars were our friends that night.
That night,
I forgot to bring a pen to paper,
To pull together whatever strength I had left to search for a way to tell you how much it meant to me.
How the poetry written on your face was beautiful,
How I wanted to stare into space with you more often,
Because the stars never felt as hot as they did with you.

Now,
This might be more of a rant,
Some kind of soliloquy skipping to the sounds of the pebbles under your feet,
But I will shout it from your rooftop,
Because I want the sky to hear me.
I want it to know that under every night sky I lay with cracked eyes,
Trying to find where we fucked up.
Where the fine print became important,
And turned this into a contract of convictions and lose.
I have never misplaced anything as special as you,
But I’ve realized through the dots in your i’s that you misplaced me,
That I was a pair of keys waiting to be dropped behind the couch,
Or a sock destined to disappear in the black hole of the dryer.
You bought me a one way ticket out of your heart,
And I knew that from the start.
That I was bound to board a bus on a highway home,
Passing cars always look like you.
Always somewhere to go,
Moving forward with the thought that someone was looking at our dust settle.

The dust always settles.

1 comment:

  1. I can relate to this so hard, man. bravo. write on!

    ReplyDelete