I never saw it coming You were just the guy that sat next to me every day I was stuck in a class I couldn't stand And one day it just hit me It was like someone had turned on the lights And you looked so different to me
From there it was a downhill ***** Almost like skiing Slow at first And then faster than ever And for me with an abundance of mishaps
Once it hit me I began to notice all the little things I'd get nervous having lunch with you And I was beyond terrified when you saw me in my suit Movie nights left me second guessing body language And when you weren't around you were in my head
And it didn't stop there From aware to curious soon I was done Much like skiing I had fallen
Good thing you were there to pick me back up and hold me tight
After the rain, came the heavy snow. Falling with silent thuds through the trees, the bush and below. Muffled crunches of boot ensconced children zipping up parkas against flakes by the million. Stillness in my heart slipping through the broken parts, dripping to the snow in colors of blue and vermillion. The quiet flakes gently holding my confusion and loneliness. Caressing my cheeks as a mother would to her child crying in whispered tearfulness A painful summer ambled slowly away leaving a far fairer autumn but as winter and her snows knocked at my door, the mountain beckoned, and I lost him.
Any ski purists out there may understand this. My relationship was about over, but as snow filled up the resort, it was the end, of it all.
There's a world out there seen only through orange lensed ski goggles a world with a redder sky and a vermillion ground your eyes adjust though to the apricot hues and after a while you find yourself seeing orange and thinking blue and when you take off those warmly toned lenses everything seems so **** blue like you forgot the entire sky around you was just a vast expanse of cerulean everything is so ******* orange until it's blue
Took a bat to a truck at a party It wasn't my truck I was pretty drunk, it was at a party Struck the glass and made the truck bleed The owner wasn't even mad about it He let me hit it again He started beating it with me with a ski Rich people have skis in their garages Owner said it was his dad's truck We beat it until it bled out in the street It felt good to beat something Feels good he said To beat instead of get beat
White mountains capped in satin, North face hiding behind a veil of frigid diamonds.
How I long to caress your powdered cheeks. To float down your ivory aisles. How I long to toast your champagne kiss. To hear you softly whisper "I do" beneath my feet. How I long to traverse across your velvet curves. To fall head over heels into your feathery embrace.
Old friends New snow Borrowed time Blue sky
There's just something about getting cold feet. I could wed you every single day & never grow tired of this frosted bliss.