You have a way with capturing my imagination
It builds islands of you, yet forgets to conjure up some device for my floatation
Drowning in a sea of your scent, hair, warmth, finger tips
I forget sometimes when I saw you last, what real life is
Sleep lasts longer, shades drawn upon light
I don't know you anymore in reality,
But in my head our lives have just taken flight
I turned to you one day,
Remarking about something of the mundane
Though your face I could no longer find atop this stolen frame
I tried to conjure your features and move your lifeless limbs
My hands reached for my pick, finding a diary, upon a whim
Flipping through for poems, photos, love songs
Anything you'd be featured in
Slamming the book shut
What was I looking for again?
Upon my awakening I couldn't recall
Any room in my house you'd ever visited at all
In fact, I couldn't remember who you indeed was
It felt as though something was missing
When you're alone it usually does
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 2:15 AM UTC
You have a way with capturing my imagination
It builds islands of you, yet forgets to conjure up some device for my floatation
Drowning in a sea of your scent, hair, warmth, finger tips
I forget sometimes when I saw you last, what real life is
Sleep lasts longer, shades drawn upon light
I don't know you anymore in reality,
But in my head our lives have just taken flight
I turned to you one day,
Remarking about something of the mundane
Though your face I could no longer find atop this stolen frame
I tried to conjure your features and move your lifeless limbs
My hands reached for my pick, finding a diary, upon a whim
Flipping through for poems, photos, love songs
Anything you'd be featured in
Slamming the book shut
What was I looking for again?
Upon my awakening I couldn't recall
Any room in my house you'd ever visited at all
In fact, I couldn't remember who you indeed was
It felt as though something was missing
When you're alone it usually does
