The trees have shed the snow that sleeps on their branches, and the rivers are starting to *****. The wings of the geese are once again heard in the distance, and icicles are creating puddles on my front porch. I'm packing up my winter gear and saving my galoshes for next December. The Sun is once again peeking behind locks of cirus clouds. Sofly kissing my cheeks and nose. My back is warm, my toes are wet, and I finally remeber the smell of, "green." As the Sun soons sets, the smell of a campfire cozies my lungs. And I think I forgot how bright stars could shine, until now. Polaroids snip snap click and clack as I gather and scrunch up with two friends to get the perfect scrapbook shot. Burnt smores and belly laughes fill the air until we all pass out- and do it all again. hope.
i’m having a hard time understanding because it shouldn’t feel this way anymore but how do you let go of poison when you can remember how water tasted before when you can’t trace back the days when roses smelled oh so sweet when you can’t trust enough to even let the soft grass kiss your feet when it’s too risky to take off the blind fold that once hid you from the light because you’ve just learned to love the abusive night when you’re too numb to move a muscle or too tired to even care so you hold on and let them ***** you down because when you’ve ignored it for so long you tend to forget it’s even there even though it beats me badly i simply don’t know how to let go because when you replace your water with poison your roses will refuse to grow
where is the place where they won’t fight where is the place where i can find sleep at night where aching and hurting blow in the breeze and the only noise present is the soft blowing of the trees where what he says and she says and he said is dead where i’ll finally have room for a thought in my head i’ll set inbetween boxes of boxes in this unwanted place because bad memories tend to take up a lot of space i long for this place to rest infront of my eyes but i know if i believed that i’d almost be as ****** as the lies because as nice as it would be to rest in the dream i consider home i might be happy, but they’d still be alone the irony of it all, is either way it won’t mend because when you hope for two to fall back in love it’s bound to end.
Do you miss the warm rain like i do? The way it would caress our skin; it’s touch was light as a feather. Almost unnoticed, but too nurturing to be forgotten. And when warm rain fell, the sun always followed. We’d bathe in tender golden light. And she would wrap us snug in her rays, only to let us nap on her sister’s green quilts of velvet. In this moment nothing mattered. There was you There was me And there was the warm rain. Nothing mattered except for us. We didn’t have to argue or yell, and no tears were shed. Just you me and the warm rain. It would dance across our sunburned cheeks and shoulders, mingle with our freckles, and get lost in between our intertwined fingertips. Although my eyes were closed i knew you were smiling. Smiling the smile that i’ve longed to see since September. I didn’t want this moment to end i just wanted to stay stay stay here with you forever. Mom yelling for dinner woke me up. There were white tiles under my head and a shower head infront of my face. i stood up, wiped the running water from my eyes, and turned the **** to the shower off. pearls of water formed and chilled as i hopped out while looking for a towel frantically. I paused the outdated song playing from my phone, that i once resonated with you. I look through the fog on my bathroom mirror and i see me. without you but i see love. love inside of me, past my now fair and satin skin beyond my fading freckles and rosy cheeks there is love. and maybe one day when the grass is green again, and the falling rain is warm i’ll find love there too. In the warm rain.
My father once told me to always except the best and worst possible outcome. And for the longest time i was completely baffled. "How could I be okay with the worst possible outcome?" "It's impossible to be okay with the worst possible outcome." But what I think I was really trying to say was," It's impossible to be okay." And I remeber the day loud and clear. I was shaking and in utter destraught. I wanted it all to end, and I too thought it was the end. But despite the chaos for a slim slip of a second, I was okay. Not only with the "Worst possible outcome." But I was genuinely okay. Because that was the day I realized, that no matter what, through the worst and best "possible outcomes" I had Grace. I had me.
there was a time when we were in love. there were weeks when you and i would talk until dawn would break from the mountains. when i would fall asleep knowing i was loved, and would wake up happy and ready to be loved again. there were days that i would count down until the day i could see you again, those days were the worst. but the best days were the ones when i could see that face of yours. the face i loved more than you could ever know. there were hours spent laughing our ***** off under a clear sky and a city of stars. those hours felt like lifetimes, until they left like seconds. because soon it curdled; weeks were spents worrying, days were spent crying, and hours were spent looking at an empty inbox. but i do promise you there was a time when i loved you. and even if it was only for a split second, a time when you loved me too. because somewhere, there was love intertwined in the knot of “us.” it ended and i’m okay, because it was for the best. but i someday, somewhere, in some lifetime, our “us” lasted until the end of time. and there’s a part of me that wishes more than anything, that that lifetime was this one.