I don’t know how to write about missing you.
Rain falls from the mists of heaven, slinking through the air, refusing to gaze upon the ground
Though it remains its destination
All the while the earth rises towards the mist without hope of reaching the rays shining upon it.
We live in-between these places of ground and air.
Hoping to touch the rays and the earth at the same time.
They say some people wear their hearts on their sleeves,
But I try to keep mine stuffed away in the back of a sock drawer
Where no one will ever find it.
I want to tell you about the sun
As blind as it is blinding
Or that smiling is easier when you’re in the room
Or that sometimes I dream
Of allowing forbidden words to pass through my lips.
Because I found something new in you. Terrifyingly close to the kind of love that breaks hearts.
Gripping my soul in your clutches.
You had me
You have me
I always thought this kind of thing was fiction
And I will probably never tell you that I wrote this poem
But I miss you
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 4:37 AM UTC
I don’t know how to write about missing you.
Rain falls from the mists of heaven, slinking through the air, refusing to gaze upon the ground
Though it remains its destination
All the while the earth rises towards the mist without hope of reaching the rays shining upon it.
We live in-between these places of ground and air.
Hoping to touch the rays and the earth at the same time.
They say some people wear their hearts on their sleeves,
But I try to keep mine stuffed away in the back of a sock drawer
Where no one will ever find it.
I want to tell you about the sun
As blind as it is blinding
Or that smiling is easier when you’re in the room
Or that sometimes I dream
Of allowing forbidden words to pass through my lips.
Because I found something new in you. Terrifyingly close to the kind of love that breaks hearts.
Gripping my soul in your clutches.
You had me
You have me
I always thought this kind of thing was fiction
And I will probably never tell you that I wrote this poem
But I miss you
cp
2015
