Its pretty early
or maybe its just a cloudy day
the light from the big bay windows
is bright and soft and sad in its purity
my heeled black boots click on the standard multi-grained colored tile
I see you in the distance in a familiar hallway
In the mandatory uniform
hands balled up in tan pants, a book bag slung over one shoulder
I stand on the opposite end looking somewhat normal
a gray and black abstract top that screams art teacher/librarian
dark purple lipstick, blue jeans, and a intricate up-do
I believe I am particularly self-conscious about this
but your smiling at me like I'm beautiful anyways
the clicking of the heels get quicker as I magnetize towards you
I fit into you like a puzzle piece
body to body, heart to heart
your arms are wrapped knowingly across my lower back
my arms are clutching your neck holding on for dear life or something else that means so much more
You still smell the same
Your breath is soft against my ear right above the sliver hoop
When we try to remove ourselves from the sticky membranes of the closeness
my nose trails across your cheek
your chin
I want that kiss I will never again receive
I look up and you're wearing that smirk
that rare smirk, that heart shattering smirk, my smirk
This. This embrace echoes things of the past
of chance, and love, and lust, and confusion, frustration, failure, and forgiveness
even though we wear that polite"we're just friends" expression on our faces.
This memory, I can place in the past , present, or future
But sometimes. Sometimes it happens differently
Sometimes I am comfy in an old slipknot shirt outside your house in the pouring rain
Sometimes we are at Parkdale directly after I've crashed and burned, trying to smile bravely like it doesn't hurt
Sometimes I am lost and broken amid the cherry blossoms sighing for you
Sometimes its on Halloween before I take my four month leave
But alot of times
more often than most
its in the way you look at me and say
How are you?
and I know you truly mean it
That's when I realize i don't need to say a word..You know
I loved you
I lost you
And vivid memory maybe the only thing I gain from this
in its embracive care
and that's okay with me
finally.
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 9:22 AM UTC
Its pretty early
or maybe its just a cloudy day
the light from the big bay windows
is bright and soft and sad in its purity
my heeled black boots click on the standard multi-grained colored tile
I see you in the distance in a familiar hallway
In the mandatory uniform
hands balled up in tan pants, a book bag slung over one shoulder
I stand on the opposite end looking somewhat normal
a gray and black abstract top that screams art teacher/librarian
dark purple lipstick, blue jeans, and a intricate up-do
I believe I am particularly self-conscious about this
but your smiling at me like I'm beautiful anyways
the clicking of the heels get quicker as I magnetize towards you
I fit into you like a puzzle piece
body to body, heart to heart
your arms are wrapped knowingly across my lower back
my arms are clutching your neck holding on for dear life or something else that means so much more
You still smell the same
Your breath is soft against my ear right above the sliver hoop
When we try to remove ourselves from the sticky membranes of the closeness
my nose trails across your cheek
your chin
I want that kiss I will never again receive
I look up and you're wearing that smirk
that rare smirk, that heart shattering smirk, my smirk
This. This embrace echoes things of the past
of chance, and love, and lust, and confusion, frustration, failure, and forgiveness
even though we wear that polite"we're just friends" expression on our faces.
This memory, I can place in the past , present, or future
But sometimes. Sometimes it happens differently
Sometimes I am comfy in an old slipknot shirt outside your house in the pouring rain
Sometimes we are at Parkdale directly after I've crashed and burned, trying to smile bravely like it doesn't hurt
Sometimes I am lost and broken amid the cherry blossoms sighing for you
Sometimes its on Halloween before I take my four month leave
But alot of times
more often than most
its in the way you look at me and say
How are you?
and I know you truly mean it
That's when I realize i don't need to say a word..You know
I loved you
I lost you
And vivid memory maybe the only thing I gain from this
in its embracive care
and that's okay with me
finally.
----> this poem was orginally called embracive care, because at the time I didnt know it was going to be his last poem. yay for closure <3
