Dec 2013
Come to bed?
-I'm not tired yet. But I'll come for a little while.
So begins the bedtime story I recite in my head. You and me were the stars, the loveable protagonists character-foiled by the scars that always found a way to nose between us under the cover of darkness and love. Like the family dog who is always welcome (even when sometimes it's not).
And although the story is worn so thoroughly it frays my cochlea with overuse of the thought, I still grow hot to see you beside me once again. Even though I know how it ends, that when my eyes close you'll be on your way again- when the morning comes, as sure as dawn, you'll be lying next to me.
Maybe nothing has changed,
and perhaps the mend sewn deep into the pages of memory is the hope that when my eyes slowly open
there you will be.
For always.
The End
-I'm not tired yet. But I'll come for a little while.
So begins the bedtime story I recite in my head. You and me were the stars, the loveable protagonists character-foiled by the scars that always found a way to nose between us under the cover of darkness and love. Like the family dog who is always welcome (even when sometimes it's not).
And although the story is worn so thoroughly it frays my cochlea with overuse of the thought, I still grow hot to see you beside me once again. Even though I know how it ends, that when my eyes close you'll be on your way again- when the morning comes, as sure as dawn, you'll be lying next to me.
Maybe nothing has changed,
and perhaps the mend sewn deep into the pages of memory is the hope that when my eyes slowly open
there you will be.
For always.
The End
