snowy skies dusk blue split in two by a sun and a moon
divided, I'm constantly chasing the light to the horizon line, looking for proof
to finally let go or to continue, hanging on, clinging onto
the thing I hold so dear, my small precious piece of you
my small precious piece so dear to me, the soft light from a warm flame I still stoke
my smallest, but cherished memento of perfect days
ephemeral but preserved, the time you were near to me before these sheets were cold
the candle lit rooms behind locked doors where our love met when even the walls would breathe hard and sweat
we were close like the edge of a day and the start of a night, close as threads stitched together tight
fingernails in backs like squeezing a first crush, eating up the deafening hush of saying nothing much
the coils of us two twisted up in ways lovers never forget, like a first touch meant
before the toils of dismemberment when even I could still remember what forever meant
but with every new sun and moon "ever" never arrives and tomorrow arises again too soon
I was trying to hang pictures of us, of kisses and smiles and of affection's glow
by tacking nails into the glass walls I built, I know
but before the "should've knowns", before I knew, there was pure, ethereal You
a truth in an innocence actually held true, unbroken and unabused, belief that two could be infused, that I still have to latch onto
so short those times, so dear, my precious small piece and so wasted the time since, without pursuit
trinkets of the mind but like treasures polished by going over them again and again with affection
thoughts never forgotten because they meant just the perfect connection, a protection not misused or askew
because of my love for my dear, small, precious, treasured piece of you
I want it back, I want you back, I want it back so badly more than I love or lust or envy
but it's damning every time I begin this again, it begins to be the ending of me
the dismantling of all sanity, the self fulfilling prophecy, the ending of an infinity
it comes running the haste of it, craving just a taste of it, moving backward through days never erasing it
never a hope for looking forward, no interest in a face in the crowd, no want for replacing it
too late or too soon split between a sun and a moon retracing it
yes
this endless chase the breadth of it stretches farther than me it's bigger than worlds and smaller than sands
wider than the sides of the dreamscapes inside of me and too small for grasping hands
it's smaller than subconscious whispers of confidence and bigger than screams of insecurities
it's deeper than black oceans, a void no light could fill
it's too small to keep, smaller than a second past by, and then smaller still
the size escapes me, unattainable it will always be painful in ways that deepen with age
now the chill of this winter is warmed only in how many blank white blankets I fill
writing it out to throw it away, feeling only that the next page is empty still
yes, yes
I feel so empty still and I do try to fill the silence between words and the lines between poems
and the loneliness between smiles on a face growing old
yes I feel so empty still because I know only you can give the missing feelings, gone missing for me
with the one thing I've kept unchanged inside of myself since it was inside of us two
my dear
small
precious
piece of you
