You’ve got me inside your skin. An angelic hymn. Something you’ve always thought, wasn’t even him. Chances were slim, compressing. Destined mentions. Long windows of time. Blurred vision, double lines. I remember your face behind the curtains, blue as an inky sky. Faded starry nights, trying to find your self in deluded plans. And you lost me a million times to your heart, written by your own hands. How you curled an x into fleeting wings, a boy with an umbrella. Tell her. Whisper rippled letters, echoing gently into the wind. A smile on approach, a ripped cinnamon kiss.
Sometimes you were his. It’s a song I sing; trapped in the melodies of unwoken dreams. You’re my human that keeps me shipwrecked in endless seas. You were my sails before I was your seize. Wishing I could float away, ashes in a summer breeze. You cease to see me waiting on that beach. A creature of sleep, you’re the horizon now, too far for me to reach. What is this trick dipped in black magic trips. Petals wilt, what was once a rose, is now a child on concrete, trying to stand on tip toes. Holding out for love, a compromise that ebbs and flows. Bound by boundaries where I’m permitted to only touch your soul.
Notes on a page pencilled in ice: fingertips grip terror stained eyes, failure to protect my spirit from relying on third sight. Shredding my light, I don’t know what’s left. Except for a love that’s not right.
Me by myself, and you with your pride.