i feel you in my bones sometimes,
on those nights when the silence screams almost as loud as your lingering words,
when the portrait of you is stitched onto my aching eyelids,
thrown together in a mass of lazy brushstrokes from a dark palette.
i light cigarettes,
but i don't smoke them.
i just watch them burn out.
like we did, endless eons ago.
it's clear to me now that,
like the land and the sky,
you and i were simply never meant to meet,
never destined to touch.
i can bring myself not to feel so hollow,
if i think of the better days,
when your smile wasn't a façade
and your love for me was a looming oak
in this great big forest of daft, dying weeds.
but it's not worth much, anyway,
because the truth
is that your smile shines
just about as bright as the stars in the big city,
and your love for me
like a silly little twig.
in all honesty,
we never were,
we just tried to be.
i walk endless roads trying to forget you.
it doesn't work.
i haven't written anything in a while, so here's a quick poem with just about every cliché you could ever think of. enjoy.