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cristin-hPoems
I used to be your morning. Back stretched, arms reaching, asking the day its first question. You always slept on the left side of the bed. Our left. My right, now. But then. And now, My right has never felt more wrong. Your eyes were always soft at sunrise. Lids lifting like lungs and falling like feathers. You loved the smell of coffee and the taste of special k. Though I never understood why. You never watched the news because it was always heart breaking breaking news news worthy never worthy of your worry so early in the morning. I used to be your afternoons. Your smile always felt like the summer, when I met you. You wore a white dress and a warning label. I wore heart stained sleeves and a nervous smile. I'm glad I didn't listen. Most of the time. You lived like flowers. Toes planted in the grass, always greener. catching rain like a break, light like your breath. Impossible to keep but never the less, you were beautiful.   Beautiful in the way you took naps, in the way you brushed your hair while complaining it was too straight. Beautiful in the way you would sway To any music that I'd play, I couldn't say it then but it's too late now so, stay. Beautiful. Always. And in the way you'd get excited when I would pick you up but somehow, I let you down. And I'm sorry. Your eyes rivaled every sunset, But the light always leaves with a promise, you left with a suitcase.   I used to be your nighttime. I sleep in the same spot that you left me in. But wake up in the middle. one arm outstretched, hand hiding beneath your pillow. our. My. pillow. My fingers are foolish, still thinking they'll find you. Like myself when in sleep. How do you tell your memories to close their eyes when you dream? when the only world I am aware of is the one that I've been keeping, saving, holding, tending to my mind is a garden, growing dreams, still, for you. I suppose one day, I'll run out of seeds. The soil will spoil, I'll be knee deep in weeds. But until then every bud in my brain blooms in bed, vines and fields of flowers fill every inch of my head. So long as I keep my eyes closed, shades drawn, room too dark to invite the dawn that hits the fields like winter. I used to be yours. I don't know what you dream of now, who slows you down when the world spins faster than your stillness can stand, how many times a day you find your hand wandering to where I've been. Though I tried hard not to say it, I know that you knew. I didn't mind how you felt, but I always loved you. All I have now are used to be's to keep these, my own hands, hopeful. Hoping. That happiness finds you happy and freedom finds me free. But until they arrive Every morning, noon, and night I'll know nothing of you And one thing of me, we used to be, I used to be.
0
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
I used to be
I used to be your morning. Back stretched, arms reaching, asking the day its first question. You always slept on the left side of the bed. Our left. My right, now. But then. And now, My right has never felt more wrong. Your eyes were always soft at sunrise. Lids lifting like lungs and falling like feathers. You loved the smell of coffee and the taste of special k. Though I never understood why. You never watched the news because it was always heart breaking breaking news news worthy never worthy of your worry so early in the morning. I used to be your afternoons. Your smile always felt like the summer, when I met you. You wore a white dress and a warning label. I wore heart stained sleeves and a nervous smile. I'm glad I didn't listen. Most of the time. You lived like flowers. Toes planted in the grass, always greener. catching rain like a break, light like your breath. Impossible to keep but never the less, you were beautiful.   Beautiful in the way you took naps, in the way you brushed your hair while complaining it was too straight. Beautiful in the way you would sway To any music that I'd play, I couldn't say it then but it's too late now so, stay. Beautiful. Always. And in the way you'd get excited when I would pick you up but somehow, I let you down. And I'm sorry. Your eyes rivaled every sunset, But the light always leaves with a promise, you left with a suitcase.   I used to be your nighttime. I sleep in the same spot that you left me in. But wake up in the middle. one arm outstretched, hand hiding beneath your pillow. our. My. pillow. My fingers are foolish, still thinking they'll find you. Like myself when in sleep. How do you tell your memories to close their eyes when you dream? when the only world I am aware of is the one that I've been keeping, saving, holding, tending to my mind is a garden, growing dreams, still, for you. I suppose one day, I'll run out of seeds. The soil will spoil, I'll be knee deep in weeds. But until then every bud in my brain blooms in bed, vines and fields of flowers fill every inch of my head. So long as I keep my eyes closed, shades drawn, room too dark to invite the dawn that hits the fields like winter. I used to be yours. I don't know what you dream of now, who slows you down when the world spins faster than your stillness can stand, how many times a day you find your hand wandering to where I've been. Though I tried hard not to say it, I know that you knew. I didn't mind how you felt, but I always loved you. All I have now are used to be's to keep these, my own hands, hopeful. Hoping. That happiness finds you happy and freedom finds me free. But until they arrive Every morning, noon, and night I'll know nothing of you And one thing of me, we used to be, I used to be.
#love#loss#breakup#left#gone#miss#missing#leaving#heartache
cristin-h
Written by
cristin-h
Dominican
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
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