Sunday, December 20, 2009
I don't have a name for this
The silence isn't so bad, til I look at my hands and feel sad,
Because the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly.
I'll find repose in new ways, though I haven't slept in two days,
Because cold nostalgia chills me to the bone
But drenched in vanilla twilight, I'll sit on the front porch all night,
Waist-deep in thought because when I think of you I don't feel so alone
As many times as I blink, I'll think of you tonight
And I'll forget the world that I knew, but I swear I won't forget you.
Oh, if my voice could reach back through the past,
I'd whisper in your ear, "oh darling, I wish you were here."