Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Lexical Gap Jan 2015
Have you ever been transfixed by the quiet beauty of the night?
She's mysterious in the worst way
You know she hides no unseen light at her core,
and yet you like to imagine so.
Have you seen
how she swallows everything in her path
with those tendrils of darkness?
She blinds you
and leads you
into what your sure will be destruction
beyond the black walls of her embrace,
But you go into that velvety unknown willingly,
unable to resist that dark temptation.
I have seen this.
I see her in the vulnerability of everything around me.
The quiet allure of voices on the point of breaking.
In sunsets and sunrises
because they are beginning and end
with no hope of as wondrous a middle.
In twangy guitar riffs
and solo violins,
Almost violent in their fragility.
I hear her beauty in ice breaking
Those arcs and swirls of frost
Patterns on its thin canvas
Cracking beneath boot
and snow
and even breath.
There's something so tragic in its brief life
And it resounds within me
like pity
and a recognition of how precious it really is
in a mixture
that I have come to define
as love of the most volatile sort.
I love Spanish guitars
And swing sets in the rain.
I love eyes above shots of bourbon
with their kicked innocence
and I love smokers' voices.
Smeared lipstick
and yesterday's makeup
tell tales of instability,
but all of my heroes are tragic.
I want to see their cracks,
like chinks in armor,
because this world is a hard one,
and the best things recognize that.
I like my music to be in mourning.
Soft, slow piano and whispers.
I like whispered promises not brave enough to be uttered aloud
My flowers dead and falling apart
My coffee cold
And my tea oversteeped.
I don't overstep to say it helps me remember how valuable things are if there's some imperfection.
I see things that I want to love
in the broken and downtrodden items
littering the sides of the road I walk
Some not imperfect
but insalvagable.
Beautiful in the same sad way
as smashed piano keys in pure white slivers on the floor.
The remaining keys
like a pitiful smile that says
"I'm sorry,
but I'll never create music again"

I can hear the ghosts of their creations.
I'm swept away
by that lost potential
and blown by the fact that it is gone forever.
I know that I cannot save the pieces,
but still seek to fill the gaps in those teeth
with bits of my own smile
so that we might at least make two halves
and have our songs heard again.
But in the end
they always sound like warnings,
ominously ringing out their weakness to the night.
Lexical Gap Jan 2015
I've always flown south in the wintertime- fragile, small bird that I am.
I am able to support myself
on wind currents
and glide seemingly effortlessly through the skies,
but I always knew I was outclassed by the cold.
I retreat into the warmest climates I can:
sanctuary in songs,
warmth in silence,
and safety in my slow glide through those months.
Winters get longer and longer like their days;
the darkness overtakes them
faster and faster
until you're living in the dark.
They try to divert the attention away
from that unsettling victory of night's blackness over day in winter
with their neon lights and smiles,
but even the purity of snow cannot combat the coldness those long shadows bring.
I leave for months at a time.
My vacant nest fills with snow in my absence.
It isn't the most productive defense,
but I cannot survive winter's harshness another way.
When I return
my nest is still damp
from the frozen tears of defeated summer.
Lexical Gap Jan 2015
I bought you this sweater for your birthday,
but you left before I could give it to you...
I guess you left before I could give you a lot of my gifts.
I planned your day,
wanted everything to be perfect;
I had notes and everything.
I wanted you to feel special and warm so I bought you this sweater
and wrote you something
I hoped would warm your insides
like wool can't.
As a fail safe
I even got you that tea
you always made with a smile on your face.
I planned our future too.
Well, mostly yours actually.
I had bookmarks and tabs
constantly open on my screens
to help you find where you wanted to go,
and I was going to follow you wherever that was.
I planned for rainy days
and sitting on the couch playing your favorite games
and sunny days at the park
and I had hoped you'd be wearing this sweater.
But I guess,
I guess I'm wearing it now.
I couldn't quite bring myself to return it,
and I never did keep receipts with you so I guess I couldn't have.
I knew you would have loved it.
It fits me pretty well,
and helps keep me warm and safe from how you left me out in the cold.
It doesn't itch at all,
and it goes with all of my clothes,
and I can't help but think
maybe I was supposed to have it.
I changed the tabs on my computer deleted the bookmarks,
and remembered
I didn't need to search
for what I wanted,
I only had to second guess for you.
I'm wearing this sweater,
and wondering
if it could have kept you as warm
as it keeps me after all.

— The End —