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The gentle hum of the airplane passing by
Is loud at the beginning
But then it gets so faint that I have to strain myself to hear it.
It's there for a while and then it gets fainter and fainter,
Until it just disappears.

And when I look up at the sky,
It just looks perfectly normal and clear with no trace of the airplane
Like the airplane never flew through it,
Like it never existed,
Like the gentle hum was all just an illusion.

And that faded away plane reminds me of you,
How the sound was gentle and loud in the beginning,
Like our conversation when we first started talking,
And then it was gentle and started to fade away,
Getting fainter and fainter with every passing moment,
Exactly how you slipped away from me.

Until there was nothing left except memories.
And then I start to question whether they even existed, and
Did we really used to talk or did I just dream about that?

And now the memories are like the airplane.
Gentle and loud,
And then they get fainter,
Harder to remember,
Slipping away slowly,
Until there's nothing left.
And then you just remember the airplane vaguely but any other memories of it have faded away into nothing.
To all of those people who used to talk to me, and then they started to disappear Slowly and faded away and now they're just gone; thank you for the lessons you've taught me and for making me happy for a while. Happy Friendship Day anyways. (:
i always thought
you were thru traffic
that you were just jet lag
background noise
the kiss in the rain
i've never had
but what if you aren't?
what if this
was the thousandth time
i have loved you?
what if this is just a fresh coat of paint?
what if god
keeps a handkerchief
soaked in the day we met
next to his bed?
maybe theres a reason
i reach for no one in bed
the way i would
if someone used to be there
you know, they say
the road behind us
is littered with things
we couldn't hold onto
i wonder how many times
you've slipped through my hands
like hour glass sand
do you know
how much erosion you've caused?
i heard cupid
stopped keeping count
of how many times
we came together
just to come apart again
maybe it was just a rumor
it makes me think
about how many times
i've almost had you
like if all this talk
about history repeating itself
endlessly replaying is true
i wonder how many times
things have happened already
like the time
i tried talking you
into loving me back
back fired
or the time i could have sworn
jesus & lazarus were playing chess
with my heartbeat
but it was only you smiling
how many times
have i tried to tell you
how many times
have you read this poem
how many times
have i tried not to meet you
in my dreams anymore
it's like sleep tries to warn
me of what's happening
before it does but
i keep having this dream
where i tell you bedtime stories
and each one
is a different way you die
and in every one
i can never save you
it's like you're this song
i have on repeat
and every time it starts over
i forget the words
it's like you picked up the book entitled "us"
and the back cover
said you'd leave
so you never bothered reading it
tell me you aren't
going back in that bookstore
just to do it again
or will you tell me tomorrow?
or is this the time
you don't say anything at all?
if this has all happened before
if we call it quits
before we begin
again
from the beginning
i just want to ask you
to be my fire
because i am tired
of these old lives
and i'd like to see them
burn
The first time you walk on the beach
And the first time you notice what's so close, yet out of reach.
The first time you dance with him at night
And the color of his voice when he says "It's alright."
Then it's the bump of every sound wave,
Making you hold on to every word

The color of his veins, matching yours at dawn.
Being so happy, until everything is gone.
Then, it's the color of seeing him leave.
It's when you grieve.
It is when you cry yourself to sleep,
Tears running down your face
But somehow it is still your saving grace.
When you wake up, and you have nothing to say

But no matter what, you still see that day
When the pain finally leaves, and you meet them
Their colored hair so contrast to yours
It's when it becomes the warmest color.
It's the color of your dim-lighted eyes
Finally, coming back to life.
When you open your eyes for the first time
When you have your first laugh-until-you-cry
When you first climb that mountain to see the skies
It is when your friends get you high.
Laughing about the taste of the stars that you stole

When the man in the moon finally shows up at last.
When you bring your friends over to crack jokes and have a blast.
It is the weirdness of you and your friends
And the quirkiness of your trends
It's the dimming light when you say good-bye.
But always knowing that you might see them next July.

It's the spark of the fireworks and the lights of Christmas.
It is when you feel happy... for no reason.
You're just smiling for the season.
It's when you're free and full of glee.
That is the perfection.
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