5.4.21 M.T
we collided under moonlight
upon impact,
you looked at me
as if I was the heat of tequila
and your brown eyes were intoxicating
I was drunk off of first sight
against mine, your lips burned
you might be a lesson I have not yet learned,
you were a beginning I wasn't prepared for.
It is almost 3 a.m
The frigid March wind stirs the sea,
our feet are sunken into the cold sand
you were a tidal wave
that I had no time to take in
Intoxication
on the idea that we were twin flames
the flame was always the fire
two flames make fire
it is always a part of you
that comes back to you
Your fingertips, the heat of lightning
when you locked yours with mine
your electricity struck me at full force
you were the searing light
illuminating parts of me hidden away
you wanted to know my deepest, desolate corners; hidden away
and for you, I lit myself up
Then, you decided that I just wasn't the spark
you were looking for
you were the soaring heat of lightning
and then you were gone in a flash
and your touch left me ruminated
maybe its all in my head
you were the dream
that I had to wake up from
with you,
It's a dangerous waiting game
sometimes, we get to pick our demons
roulette, and you were the loaded gun
from you, I could not run
both afflicted by a mutual high
neither of us can break from
flashes of lightning in the dark
until death do us part
until the blood runs cold,
I'll never know if you'll stay or go
I'll never know if I'm just waiting for a sunrise
that isn't coming
I'll stay up all night waiting for answers
to the things I'm afraid to ask out loud
I'm never certain if I'll ever come across
a language, to speak
of the things you've left instilled in me
All I wanted
was to be the one you'd chase storms for
I wanted you
to be the electricity
that brings me back to life
I wanted it to be different this time.
Please give away the ending,
tell me it's us.
tell me it's me.
Tell me it's me you look for
in the wreckages after the storm
YOU ARE READING
The Other Person Project
Poetrythe answer is yes. it will always be yes. you will always be the words. [(format) This originally started as a secret project I took on senior year, in high school. I wanted to write a poem about every single person in my class, eventually it becam...
