Tales of Sorrow
Nobody ever misses me right away.
I have a tendency of making my way into parts of your life that you don’t notice until long after I’m gone.
You’ll think of me in the laundromat, when someone three washers down has the same fabric softener I had just washed my clothes with the night before our first date.
You’ll think of me at the coffee shop, when someone ahead of you in line asks for three sugars and two creamers, like I used to.
You’ll think of me when your sister shows up to your house wearing the same nail polish I did the first time you kissed the back of my hand.
You’ll think of me when you’re in the car alone and you realize you don’t turn on the radio anymore, ‘cause our silence used to be better than whatever was playing.
You won’t really realize it until it’s too late and I’m too far gone.
Until I’m so deeply embedded into your memory and intertwined into your everyday life.
You won’t miss me immediately.
It’ll take some time.
She wants to feel the softness of feathers upon the tips of her toes
Reaching out for comfort that will surely come
Caresses the moments before midnight
With suger kisses so sweet
Like honey coated forgiveness
She smiles into her lovers eyes of crystal dew
Her sences reeling
Like the figurine within an ancient music box
As the music surrounds the childs mind so pure
There is more captured within
The sweetness is soured only by memories
She paints with fingers in the suger
There are things so worth forgetting
She sees him sleeping and places
mirrors where his eyes once looked upon her
For now she will see herself
The way he see's
The blood from the girl child dried as he slept
There was to be no more sugered moments
No more honey for him to savour
she had seen
Her worth in his eyes
Such a shame sweet child
She should of loved herself with toes touching feathers
Reaching for a comfort
That would only be found in forgiveness of self
Far beyond the place he sleeps
With mirrored eyes of crystal dew
He awakes to find his beloved drenthed in death
He reaches for moments which never come
Her projection of him so false upon this moment
As in a moments seperation
She sees with her angel presence
The suger he tastes on lips so pure
His tears now mingle with the blood
As he tears her mirrors from his eyes
He understands not
Why white feathers are falling from the sky
I wake up, half past two,
late again, but dreamt of you.
Of all the things I wouldn't do?
Dream of you, a tortured tale.
Save past weeks you're new to me,
a shiny thing in endless sea,
but once too many have I believed,
then broken, lost, bereaved.
In my head you died, you see.
You couldn't have, he cheated she!
But yes, I know, it is, believe.
I didn't try, defaulted fail.
Soon won't pass
but in my head,
a thousand words
were never said,
an empty tale,
a soreful fail,
a broken, heartless, coward.
Allow me to cry for you
As I hear your story
And absorb each pain
These rising oceans
I can no longer contain.
Watch as my tears flow
Like raging rivers
Beneath Thundering rains
Freed and released me
From my emotional chains.
© Tina Thompson