I'm not going to write about you
NO this poem isn't for you
It's about me.
It's about how I feel
Empty like a seashell
Still pretty on the outside
And if you listen close enough
Put me right up to your ear
You can hear the tides
Of all my lost dreams and
Forgotten hopes
You can hear the sighing
Of all my memories
All the things,
Not just me and you but
Me and him too
All the ones that have came and went
All the ones that have spent
My time and energy
On their own pleasure
In trade for a simple
Display of love and care

A journey not calculated by distance or time, but by memories -
Our story unfolding between those layers,
Like small puzzle fragments coloring a portrait,
Revealing their purpose -
Presenting its complicated story.

We are but silhouettes reflected upon the sand in the moonlight -
Dancing and howling at the moon,
Asking for the stars...
To keep,
To hold,
Just long enough for another one of those moments -
Even if it is the length of a breath,
I could find eternity in you.

It wasn't that the light was left on over night.
It usually is.
The sun swept into the bedroom.
It was an electrical feeling.
Awoken by an eagle of light.
Now as darkness falls, it's dragged down,.
Carried by a raven of night.
A black cat's endeavour.
To chase it away .
The raven absorbed the cat.
Streetlights flickered.
Low in wattage,
Retain the cat's eyes.
And still they're trapped.
Last time a glimpse.
In the midst of tonight.
By tomorrow,
Last night's cat will be alright.
(C) Livvi