the slow art of breathing bitter

I Wish You Were Here

It's 2 a.m.

I am walking down the crooked lane.

The memories start with the concert's song.

Blue lights flicker; I wish you were there:

Holding my hands, keeping me closer.

You had kept yourself off.

I am wearing your Led Zep t-shirt,

The one you gave me when I lost one.

It smells of you—sweet and cedar.

You still smile in my wildest thoughts,

You still kiss me slowly when time rots.

I wish you were here to smile at me wearing your shirt.

But we were made of glass—

Like plastic flowers in a vase,

Trying to look like perfect roses.

And roses always die in the dark.

I walk faster—moving past the coffeehouse where we broke up.

The tears have vanished in the blue sparks.

For we have been walking down a crooked lane,

Where the lights were off, and cars ran insane.

The hearts were out to be sold in fake stalls.

We were always mad at each other, screaming and crying—

Crumbled up like tissues, dipped in dark wine.

And drunken us tried to hold things back as normal.

I wish you were here with me,

Too close so I could smell your mint.

And close the last silver of space into another embrace.

I wish I didn't hang up your calls,

I wish I didn't throw away your white roses.

I wish the magic could happen if I hadn't typed the space(bar).

A lot of things could have happened,

If I didn't call you a 'joke' or 'fake'—

I was stupid, and you were reckless.

A lot could have changed about us, and this t-shirt,

But all that was left were the dried roses.

I wish you were here, kissing me—the light went off, and the memories faded.

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A/N: Are concerts nostalgic enough to rewind memories in your mind? Bless the star with your love, and share your views!