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megan-8Poems
The bass was here. I remember late nights, phone pressed against my cheek. Your whispers lit my soul and I awoke. I saw myself in your smile, heard my voice in your heartbeat— but found the strength on my own. I needed to believe you. You liked being needed. But here I am, digging up flowers amidst headstones— I couldn’t let this rest. But there you are, a wandering tourist just looking for a home. And I, a speed bump. You tripped— while trying to catch the Sun. I’m sorry my attractions weren’t worth capturing. You were too scared to use the camera slung around your neck— what if you dropped it? Well, it broke anyway. I gave you too long to be honest & overstayed my welcome. The bass was here. We live in different worlds, but found each other in our past. You liked Woodrow Wilson, I should have known it wouldn’t work out. I found myself in poetry you taught me that. Couldn’t you see I was new at this? You didn’t want to repeat history— you never gave me a chance. Time tables turned— turn tables over time. You twisted your essence to fit my definition— you loved how this felt. To finally be on the other side. The bass was here. Your lies became the music I danced to, alone in my room I loved how we sounded together. But I never listened to the lyrics space, time, less. The bass was here. I didn’t mean to make you leave. The base was here. You were here. Word is bond, but your words left me bonded. Blinded. Like my horoscope— I used to believe in you. [Hi(s]tory) changed when the planets aligned and she became i l l u m i n a t e d. His home. History still repeats for me. Distance played a part in this equation— you never let yourself get close. But you got close enough to save me. The bass was is here. It just sounds different now.
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
Basslines III (Timing)
The bass was here. I remember late nights, phone pressed against my cheek. Your whispers lit my soul and I awoke. I saw myself in your smile, heard my voice in your heartbeat— but found the strength on my own. I needed to believe you. You liked being needed. But here I am, digging up flowers amidst headstones— I couldn’t let this rest. But there you are, a wandering tourist just looking for a home. And I, a speed bump. You tripped— while trying to catch the Sun. I’m sorry my attractions weren’t worth capturing. You were too scared to use the camera slung around your neck— what if you dropped it? Well, it broke anyway. I gave you too long to be honest & overstayed my welcome. The bass was here. We live in different worlds, but found each other in our past. You liked Woodrow Wilson, I should have known it wouldn’t work out. I found myself in poetry you taught me that. Couldn’t you see I was new at this? You didn’t want to repeat history— you never gave me a chance. Time tables turned— turn tables over time. You twisted your essence to fit my definition— you loved how this felt. To finally be on the other side. The bass was here. Your lies became the music I danced to, alone in my room I loved how we sounded together. But I never listened to the lyrics space, time, less. The bass was here. I didn’t mean to make you leave. The base was here. You were here. Word is bond, but your words left me bonded. Blinded. Like my horoscope— I used to believe in you. [Hi(s]tory) changed when the planets aligned and she became i l l u m i n a t e d. His home. History still repeats for me. Distance played a part in this equation— you never let yourself get close. But you got close enough to save me. The bass was is here. It just sounds different now.
megan-8
Written by
megan-8
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
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