We no longer speak
but I conversate with you.
I transverse through
every syllable I ever spoke,
every gesture,
every lie,
every joke,
and every poem
I ever wrote.
We no longer speak
but I've been talking to you;
in dark rooms at strange hours
unable to sleep;
sometimes on clear nights
under a menacing moon
allowing its bright light
to wash me in its purity.
We no longer speak
and it’s time I stopped,
stopped reliving every mistake
stopped thinking,
stopped wondering,
and stopped loving you
because the gravity
that once drew us together
now pushes us apart
and with each rotation
I the moon go further
and further from the earth’s heart.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
We no longer speak
but I conversate with you.
I transverse through
every syllable I ever spoke,
every gesture,
every lie,
every joke,
and every poem
I ever wrote.
We no longer speak
but I've been talking to you;
in dark rooms at strange hours
unable to sleep;
sometimes on clear nights
under a menacing moon
allowing its bright light
to wash me in its purity.
We no longer speak
and it’s time I stopped,
stopped reliving every mistake
stopped thinking,
stopped wondering,
and stopped loving you
because the gravity
that once drew us together
now pushes us apart
and with each rotation
I the moon go further
and further from the earth’s heart.
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