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kayla-lynnPoems
Your two a.m. words are my favorite The way the starlight reflects in your eyes And your smile breaks your face in half When you tell me about your homeland And how you used to sleep in the mountains I paint the picture in my mind of you Riding whitetail through the tropics He's probably dead now, you admit That horse you loved all those years ago And it just breaks my ******* heart But you don't seem to notice You're talking to the shadows To the monsters under my bead Reminiscing of how things used to be And how you miss the smell of coffee When your mother would grind the beans You tell me you miss your home But you don't ever want to return Because nothing can restore the past Because I'm here, now, with you You tell me that my laughter Is the only home you'll ever need And that the mountain bonfires Cannot compare to the heat from my skin You tell me you always believed in angels But I was the first one you ever laid eyes on You tell me my lips are sweet and my voice Always hums the perfect melody And in all these ways You tell me you love me. But I tell you I cannot compete with a memory, And it breaks my heart Even more.
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Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
Honduras
Your two a.m. words are my favorite The way the starlight reflects in your eyes And your smile breaks your face in half When you tell me about your homeland And how you used to sleep in the mountains I paint the picture in my mind of you Riding whitetail through the tropics He's probably dead now, you admit That horse you loved all those years ago And it just breaks my ******* heart But you don't seem to notice You're talking to the shadows To the monsters under my bead Reminiscing of how things used to be And how you miss the smell of coffee When your mother would grind the beans You tell me you miss your home But you don't ever want to return Because nothing can restore the past Because I'm here, now, with you You tell me that my laughter Is the only home you'll ever need And that the mountain bonfires Cannot compare to the heat from my skin You tell me you always believed in angels But I was the first one you ever laid eyes on You tell me my lips are sweet and my voice Always hums the perfect melody And in all these ways You tell me you love me. But I tell you I cannot compete with a memory, And it breaks my heart Even more.
kayla-lynn
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kayla-lynn
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
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