Sometimes I catch myself
wrapped up in the moments
when we were making up
my feet on your dash
going somewhere fast
all this frozen in my past -
the wind pounding through me
breathing in the warm air
always taking the scenic route.

I remember the small details
like your dimples
when a smile spread across your face
and the gap in your teeth
that I wished would stay.
You sang me to sleep
with that voice you hated
but it sounded like honey
to my ears, softly driving me
into your arms.

I've tried to erase
the memories of you
but that's just not something I can do
because every breeze of every season
smells like you
and everything we made each other do.
I know I was to blame
when you didn't feel the same,
and of course, I'm ashamed
of my past self
and maybe you are too.
But distance tricked us,
and I long for being a kid
slowly lowering my eyelids
as we drove past the power grids.

We sat on your bed. It wilted under our weight.
Old and frail- stale to a fault, we always said.
Side by side. Knees touching knees. Hands
in packets of sweets from the corner shop.
How many can you fit in your mouth? I got
eight. You beat me every time.
We laugh until we ache. Funny pictures.
We jump in slow motion, I catch your eye and
we smile.  My best friend.

I sit in my bed. It's strong under my weight.
New and durable- Squeaky to a fault, I always say.
Cushion to a body. Covers suffocating hard. Hands
on a face, smudged with mascara from Asda.
I can fit four hours worth of crying into one if
I think hard enough. I beat my record every time.
I sob until I ache. Funny picture, that is.
I lay in slow motion, my phone rings in my ear and
I smile. My best friend.

The call isn't from you.

We can argue day and night
Over the colour you claim to know so well
And you look so silly over the phone with me
Trying to defend your case

The truth is
No matter a deep chestnut
Or a strawberry blonde
It will always be my favourite colour

Chocolate bars melting through hands
Sand slipping through toes
Tears rolling down lips
Blood burning through noses
Balloon slips from grip
Stretched wide with hopes and dreams
Floating on to Neverland
Never to be seen

I know this may sound strange.
To know if we could meet again
As if the first hasn't happened.
The same sleepless nights,
The beginning of Summer.
Finally asleep with the thought of you.
The nostalgia of a smile.
Wasting my time in a dream.
To think of myself as an apartment.
You the city I gaze into.
I know this may seem strange.
Staring out the patio window of a one bedroom apartment.
Searching to live in the comfort of again.
To be honest I couldn't be any happier.
The blinking buildings, the backdrop of sky.
It's almost therapeutic, the way I think of you.
To stand on the balcony at night,
Reliving the same feeling of meeting you.
Miles away from any and everything except you.
With your favorite color lighter.
Waiting to hear about your day

She washes her hands in egg whites,
picking out stray shell pieces.
Sitting as still as the morning- quiet,
while the kettle sets itself a-steaming.
She hears that same Chinese flute
drifting down the hallway,
slipping universal truths
under each hotel room doorway.
She looks to the rain in the hills
like sorrowful sailor's wife;
a day could be time for a dream fulfiled
or the time that the rivers run dry.