Monday, February 28, 2011

cigarette smoke

The sun rises and sets. Between dreams I’ve forgotten you’ve changed and my life’s moved on. I’m caught in that nightmare where you’re letting go and I’m wondering why.
I’ve hidden the cards you made, the words you said. The friendship beads you slipped around my wrist, the secrets you whispered in my ears. Like cigarette smoke they made intricate designs in the air but meaningless, as they shaped according to air, and disappeared.
I hid everything but I am yet to fully hide the memories that play in my head, maybe I had hurriedly swallowed time, but never forgotten the flavor.
So you make your way to me now, even though in reality, you talk to the people you swore were never your type, you’re walking away so fast from me that you’re running, you hate because I remind you of what you’re becoming but you’re forgetting I don’t even know what that is.

I thought it was fair to fight it out, right it out, confide but never hide.
I have made mistakes, I know what they are, I meant to apologize. I do. I see you logging in and signing out, and I don’t say a word.
I type a letter in my head an hour later, I’m writing it now, people who don’t know me would’ve read but you would’ve never heard.

Push