Whisper sweet sorrow to me no more. I'm unable to care so tenderly as I had done early in our sunrises. When the sun goes down over that water I knew that I was truly home. The night you packed and left was the moment I met pain; henceforth I became empty, emotional, broken. Never again the same.
Warm cotton blankets, hott coffee in the morning: no more. Fire light kissing, back road twisting, bikini tan lines so fine: no more. If I stay, will you pray with me, keep me safe while I keep you safe. If I stay, shall we embody the cliche of love, gain, and harmony. Ideas that are no more.
I miss when the moonlight shed her glory, cloaking us in dim blues and whites. I miss when the movie credits rolled down while we rolled over across the cotton blankets, knocking the pillows off the side that I'd have to reach down to pick up.
Mother said they'd be days like this. Each defined line must be crossed at the appointed time, though we fall down into the pitt, we regain. I regain. You regain.
"Keep those kisses coming," you would say. Sun in our eyes, dew still layed. Hammack swinging next to that rivers edge, damn, why does it have to be this way?
From where do I draw my strength to continue onward. The sky, moon, stars, spiral staircases, old bars, empty bottles, cigars, black cats, wooden cabins in the forest of my eternal mind, NO! I can't allow myself to think this way. To convey these things outloud, not right now. If I stay...
