Seagulls pacing dark skies.
Walking circles below,
with a cigarette, in the snow.
Thinking of reuniting with you.
I went back to the past,
exhausted by everything new,
estranged by my time with strangers.
Dreaming of reveries untrue.
I went back to the future,
but all it showed me was you.
Nothing of what would become,
nothing of what we would do.
I wanted to break that portal,
to cut myself off,
to be free of prophetic visions.
I was afraid to be alone.
So I let it sit,
like a canker,
like a cyst,
until I would be brave enough.
Brave enough to step through it.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
Seagulls pacing dark skies.
Walking circles below,
with a cigarette, in the snow.
Thinking of reuniting with you.
I went back to the past,
exhausted by everything new,
estranged by my time with strangers.
Dreaming of reveries untrue.
I went back to the future,
but all it showed me was you.
Nothing of what would become,
nothing of what we would do.
I wanted to break that portal,
to cut myself off,
to be free of prophetic visions.
I was afraid to be alone.
So I let it sit,
like a canker,
like a cyst,
until I would be brave enough.
Brave enough to step through it.
Request permission to use this poem