(green, your favorite color, i remember)
(as my desperate laughter fills rooms far beyond my reach)
(and hot hot hot tears roll down freckled cheeks)
(bent over white sinks and silver faucets)
(crying because i’m home but i miss you)
(more than i’ve ever missed anyone before)
((i think))
(from... um. yeah. i don’t title these, i should do that more often ._. the last one...!)
i see myself in a mirror,--
beside another twisted and distorted--
face red and eyes a watered-down forest green
lips turned down with age and sadness and grief--
but only age that’s hardly counted anymore, young grief demoted--
glasses not put on because i can’t stop crying and want to keep them clean
so the vision is blurred and out of focus, but still
see freckles bright and dull at the same time against pale skin
i reach my hands out, perhaps to hug this girl,
cold fingers touch cold glass and lips tremble now, eyes blinking fast
i whisper, i whisper, i whisper quickly
“i miss you,”
and pull my lip between my teeth, bite hard
against watering eyes and shaking cavities
but the tears roll down and i slip forward
hands dropping to catch my fall,
as my forehead bumps against a cold silver faucet
a breath escapes, the cry of a sob shaking me deep inside
my eyes close tight, yet the tears escape
roll fiery trails down already wet cheeks
freckled like rocks on sand and words on music and your voice in my
mind behind everything i do and say and i can HEAR YOU BUT I CAN’T SEE YOU,
NOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME, CANNOT REMEMBER
YOUR EYES OR YOUR SMILE OR YOU AND IT HURTS
let the echo of my sobs bounce back off of light pink walls and let me be
quiet enough not to wake anyone else to my grief
“i miss you, i miss you, i miss you,” i say, again, just to know, just to understand
i miss you and i miss you and i miss you and i am so sorry
i wish this grief could stay inside,
wish it would be quiet inside of me,
wish wish wish i could be and not hurt anyone else except i can’t,
it’s encompassing me, and all i can stand to say,
all i can stand to make known is that i
miss you
I write to ignite frightened minds and remind them of the might they might be inclined to find inside the confines of life interwined with divine vibes and sublime rhymes propeling lives to rise and thrive. I write because words are magic and sentences are spells, and the thought of underutilizing ourselves is tragic so I feel frantic to go savage and ring some chilling bells. I write because letters are elements, words are molecules, and paragraphs are the means to create worlds forming books upon shelves. I write because I can.
Understand?