Do you remember the soft piano underneath fiery bursts of meteors in the sky?
Blue light of the moon behind faint aircrafts.
Were you too busy thinking of him? The aura-ed king of my love? I am relaxed in chugged water and warm baths but I taste another on my lips. I feel embraces, ghostly climbing around my skin.
Where have you been?
thinking of him?
The let down of your life come to cross you again. A more messy way to show your love in obsession, the idea of him.
Where have you gone in the time you've been growing older?
Certainly the flowers picked weren't for you. When your eyes reflect that mystery of a person, you burry down the sight of yourself. You look away, never grasping a painting of him. You have him forget you, to protect yourself from a greater pain to come.
The trigger sitting on your couch won't heal your exit wounds, and the mother of your love compares minuscule to the original. Every factor of your life has dribbled down to an absent heart and a severed brain. No one taught you how to stitch while you wait in warm rooms with weak candles and melatonin. You please yourself in your loneliness but find that your pill case still makes its way to the ground in due time.
Do you remember your life before this? Can you feel the presence of those memories? Your brain is numbed to sudoku puzzles and vanity. Your milkweed hair became bronzed and burnt and you can't remember how.
Baby bear...
don't choke on time like the rest of us.
