I spoke with you this morning.
You rolled off my skin and told me things were different.
_I listened to you as you moved my hair._
You are gone now--
My solaces I surrendered to, or
Is this a sign that all things will continue to change?
I miss you, my gloomy comforter.
You were not gloomy to me.
Take away the sun that suffocates me so
Sadistically. Hydrating resuscitation.
It's silly that I still check for you outside my window.
I hear the ghosts of your afterthought.
_When will you be back again?_
I feel as if we could travel anywhere and be anything;
You veiled me in a misty blanket of intuition.
_No one can speak our language but us._
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
I spoke with you this morning.
You rolled off my skin and told me things were different.
_I listened to you as you moved my hair._
You are gone now--
My solaces I surrendered to, or
Is this a sign that all things will continue to change?
I miss you, my gloomy comforter.
You were not gloomy to me.
Take away the sun that suffocates me so
Sadistically. Hydrating resuscitation.
It's silly that I still check for you outside my window.
I hear the ghosts of your afterthought.
_When will you be back again?_
I feel as if we could travel anywhere and be anything;
You veiled me in a misty blanket of intuition.
_No one can speak our language but us._
My disappointment to see the storm had moved away, right after I wrote a poem about it. I sort of like writing vaguely.
Anyway, life is all about constant change and taking the good and the lessons from every chapter. But I am forever optimistic.
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