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Sydney Jeanne Mar 2012
home
is where I felt with you
laying on the pointed grass
watching the clouds form to our thoughts
of eachother
and how the sun
reached out and touched your skin
because he wanted
a part of you
like I had a part of you
like the way your laugh
would echo
in the mountains of
my mind
for days
repeating endlessly
like the sun-kissed freckles
on your face that gave you that
twist of innocence
that you rarely showed
to the world
of people
who all held daggers
beneath you like
blades of grass
waiting
for a shift in weight
Sydney Jeanne Mar 2012
you stood, elevated, as if you belonged there
dark hair, dark eyes
dark with infinite depth
mystery radiated off you
and hit me with desire
eyes closed
fingers strumming effortlessly
your lips moved in slow motion
I’ve been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks
I look down overwhelmed with emotion, and catch my breath
my eyes rise to see what I’d been both desiring and dreading
you
staring back

[hello]

the sky resembled an intangible black ocean
with small beams of hope falling upon us
together, we calmly sit on ground made of wood
your hands are small,
yet fit perfectly with my own
my pencil-like fingers trace the tattoo on your forearm
you lean forward
I can feel your words in my ear
the unheard music playing in my mind
I came here with a load, and it feels so much lighter now I met you
my permanent smile widens
I reply
look at the stars, look how they shine for you
you smile as well and we sit in a comfortable silence
you are my canvas
and I your instrument
I paint our world with color
and you are our background music
but time has never been on our side
always too silent and conniving in our presence
I have to go
a look of understanding and sadness washes over you
your lips touch my forehead in farewell

[see you soon]

yesterday you asked me to write you a pleasant song
I’ll do my best now but you’ve been gone for so long

there is a song for every mile that divides us
lyrics repeat themselves over and over in my head
my dear, we’re slow dancing in a burning room
my body aches from the lack of your touch
your voice is silent
my paintbrushes dry
my hand becomes heavier with each hit you take
my mind sobers as yours blurs
still can’t numb the pain
you fill everything in me that was left absent
now you’re absent
and your absence has left me drained
drained of emotion
drained of a voice
drained of pain
drained of love
drained of myself
all that’s left is
you

[goodbye]

— The End —