January 26th, 2017
For The Time Capsule. For The Boy Who Loves The Ocean
I'm always immortalising human beings in my words. I hope someone reads this in a century when I'm gone and thinks about how your kind of beauty existed. I hope they celebrate the day you shown like the sun after a year of being dragged down by a tide of your own sadness. I hope they will know that I tried to capture the way your eyes are at unrest and how you exhale all your pain when the waves fly above your head. I hope they can imagine the exact shades of colour your hair was on that day I knew I would never forget you. How your fingers spread through those curls and the way you shook them out as though they carried the sand of all the waves you've ripped above. I tried to write it down precisely, but my heart was so filled with you that my soul was spinning. I hope they hear all the secrets you never wanted to whisper, not even to me. But the ones I learnt because I was entranced by reading in between the lines that left your mind. I read your body language and the music you played too loud. I know you wanted someone to hear, I wish I told you I did. I heard you loud and clear, almost like your voice had entangled itself with mine. That I knew all the ways you got bored because there was never enough adventure to feed your soul. I want them to know this was a fraction of the canvas that you were because you were so bright my darkness could not stay long enough to write about the rest. I hope they see how I loved you, and I hope they don't cry like I did when I realised you could not love me the same. Regardless of how much this hurts me to say, I hope I am not the only one that has immortalised you this way.
YOU ARE READING
A Change Of Heart
PoetryHealing isn't the easiest thing for me to do. I've tried to find it in between pages and rib cages. In loud rooms and the quiet of racing heartbeats. In poetry and rage. In that space between childhood and growing pains. In apologies that I refuse t...
