Not all can fathom the concepts that what is here was once not and what was here once now isn't. The soil doesn't change, nor do the old trees, yet the buildings are broken down and the people soon leave.
The visuals and sights that have over time been consumed within the air still linger in our breaths.
The road was once dirt, the river once land, that home once someone else's home.
Physical attributes change yet so do the emotional ones. A place of war and blood shed will become peaceful and goodly. A place once deemed dreadful will be contradicted by time and seen as content and amicable. A person once admired and lively will become a person admired and dead.
The air doesn't change but everything else does, allowing the next people to breathe it's past in.
I'm thinking of creating a zine consisting of poetry and photography. I think zines were such hits in the 90's and need a comeback. I'm really excited to start this project. The above is a piece I may be editing and including.
You're a one night stand
But we spent too many nights
I lost count of it.
You're that unexpected kiss
On a drunken wasted night
Of vomits and *****.
You're that awkward hi
Exchanged by strangers who
Thought they both knew each other
But were clearly mistaken for another.
You're the bruise that turns blue
When I accidentally bump my leg
On the corner of the bed.
You're the scar that I never
Knew I had.
You're the bittersweet taste in
My mouth every morning.
You're the last thought lingering
In my head before slumber takes me
And you're the vagueness that
Haunts me in my dreams.
You're the scalding hot shower
In a cold freezing morning.
You're the boiling tea that numbs
My tongue for the rest of the day.
You're the obsession
I will never learn to let go of.
You're that person I will
Never get to call mine.
You're the one that got away.
Have you ever met someone who has an irrational fear?
Of course you have
Well, my irrational fear is love and I know
It sounds like a line someone would say but, it's not.
I reeled you in, not that it was difficult and
then I told you to go.
I realise now, this was not the way I should've conducted myself.
I'm sorry for that.
I clawed my way back to you, after swallowing my pride and
I fell again, harder this time.
How dangerous, how scary, how thrilling.
I faced my fear and I see now that you can't be scared of love.
But now you're scared of me.
Please Come Back.
It felt like our love was a boomerang that barely returned itself.
A boomerang that you throw and think surely to God,
This won't come back,
Just like all the others didn't.
But you fling it anyway and miraculously it shows up.
Like the air, the earth, the universe needed to get it back to you.
Then all of a sudden,
The light shone a little differently up ahead.
A glint that was familiar,
A glint of sunlight woven into hair.
Whenever he was out it happened,
Like he radiated rays back to the sun.
The act of listening to sad songs and reading poetry is a complex one.
You question life and what exactly is happening in your own.
It clears your mind and makes you realise things.
But then it can be questioned if you realised it or already knew it.
The complex part and most heartbreaking is that when the song ends and the verse is finished all you're left with is the thoughts and that,
that is truly terrifying.