Separated by gravel roads
burning rubber tires
and airport runways,
I am alone.
A blue lit up screen
is not the same as
feeling your breath
on my cheek.
A gust of wind brings
the smell of pinecones
and cigarettes—
I am choking
on your memory.
I glance at a window
and I think I see your face,
shimmering, glowing,
but it’s just a reflection of what could be—
what could have been.
Misery chills my bones
and freezes my heart
but I remember porch swings
and handwritten letters,
catching snowflakes
and counting stars
and the promises we made
fills me with a glowing fire.
I remember you and I remember us,
and the ocean waves could not drown
the life we breathe into our love.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
Separated by gravel roads
burning rubber tires
and airport runways,
I am alone.
A blue lit up screen
is not the same as
feeling your breath
on my cheek.
A gust of wind brings
the smell of pinecones
and cigarettes—
I am choking
on your memory.
I glance at a window
and I think I see your face,
shimmering, glowing,
but it’s just a reflection of what could be—
what could have been.
Misery chills my bones
and freezes my heart
but I remember porch swings
and handwritten letters,
catching snowflakes
and counting stars
and the promises we made
fills me with a glowing fire.
I remember you and I remember us,
and the ocean waves could not drown
the life we breathe into our love.
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