Dec 2017
If I think back to those cold afternoons
where noon felt as cold as night
I wish I could have gone back,
traced lines on your eyes and mouth
Draw myself a map
The streets and hills that rest between your house and my memory
are empty
The words I didn't have the courage to say
stay trapped in my chest
With nowhere to go
it gets carried in through the dim light that poured into your shadeless windows
To your matress,
on the floor of a bare apartment
And makes a home between our bodies,
lingering in that space of regret
The words slipping through my hands before I could measure their worth
to you,
or anyone.
where noon felt as cold as night
I wish I could have gone back,
traced lines on your eyes and mouth
Draw myself a map
The streets and hills that rest between your house and my memory
are empty
The words I didn't have the courage to say
stay trapped in my chest
With nowhere to go
it gets carried in through the dim light that poured into your shadeless windows
To your matress,
on the floor of a bare apartment
And makes a home between our bodies,
lingering in that space of regret
The words slipping through my hands before I could measure their worth
to you,
or anyone.
The winter bums me out. I don't like the cold, but I also get very nostalgic. Many winters were spent indoors with friends, fighting to stay warm and entertained. Many of those friends are long gone and the only person who is left to remember those winters are me. Time keeps marching forward and I can't help but feel longing for a time I'll never feel again. I wish I would have had the guts to say everything I should have.
