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Nyx Ashling Apr 2012
Amid the pile of ****** drawings,
I see your letter and there's a dawning,
of hope and nostalgia in my eyes,
I must confess these ***** lies,
Wishing so that I felt better,
I turn around,
sit back down,
calm myself and read your letter.

It says you love me,
We'll be forever,
We'll die an epic death together,
but in my heart  I know it's true,
We're so close to being through,
But reading your letter I take a chance,
I jump right up and grab a strand,
of spider's silk glowing in the dark,
and your voice cuts through just like a lark's,
through my ears and in my head,
a sadder side of me is dead,
So take my hand that hugged yours so,
and go to places we don't know.

But Time has gone and grown us apart,
I feel it in my hurting heart,
I miss you so come back to me,
we'll play around have fun be free.

I smile "We're not done, now that's just silly!"
take a knife and *****-nilly,
cut the chords of my depression,
be my muse my free expression!

Now I know this might sound cheesy,
but with you it really comes quite easy,
I've tried to force myself in the past,
and noticed I quit right real fast,
my best works have come from you,
and now it's time to pay my due.

We've grown apart but let's not forget,
You'll always be my winning bet,
So sit right now and no surprise,
I'll tell you things I've had to hide,
and when I'm done you'll hug me well,
and I'll hope your opinion of me is still,
one of virtue love and grace,
and when you do I'll hide my face,
and smile and breathe,
my faith restored in the human race,
because you still have faith in me.
This was actually written for a long ago childhood friend, not a lover, but having gone through a break up I now know that it could still very well apply to both friends and lovers with whom I've had deep connections with and lost.
Nyx Ashling Apr 2012
When I opened my eyes,
I thought I'd be somewhere else.

The air had decieved me.
This was not the air we breathed.

The sunlight had tricked me.
This was not the light that lit our world.

The grass had conned me.
This was not the grass that had tickled our skin,
the ground that we lay upon,
whose molecules shifted so loudly when I turned my head to look at you,
breathing so rhythmically with your eyes still closed.

You were still in that place.

You still are.

Keep your eyes closed,
because when I opened mine,
yours were absent evermore.
I am not a person who likes the feeling of nostalgia because it brings back too many good memories. Memories of times that I'll never be able to recreate. Innocence that I'll never be able to get back. It kills me inside to think of where I was and who I was with this time last year, and that I'll never be able to tell myself about the mistakes I shouldn't have made, and maybe have been able to prolong losing what was important to me. What is still important in my memories. Nostalgia for me is the worst at the turning of the seasons, where even just the temperature of the air will bring back a painfully beautiful memory.

— The End —