the slow art of breathing bitter

I'm Waitin' For You, Darling

Greeting cards and crimson roses have all been sent—

Christmas laughter and rosy love,

Bunches of violets and knitted sweaters—

Stuffed in little gift boxes hanging high above.

And I'm waitin' for you, darling

For my special wish to come true before I feel

like you again.

We're apart, so far, yet so near.

And I can feel your cheeks heating up

and your fragile heart beating faster.

I can sense you smiling and dreaming of me.

In my dreams, in my blinks—

All I can do is wait for you, darling.

For my wish to come true at any second

Before I feel alone again. 

Lights giggling in the corners,

Memories of yore loosening harder and softer.

The days when we slow danced to the beating music;

Violins swell the thick air of adrenaline.

I can think of no one but you, darling:

Everywhere, in the scent of withered violets.

And here I'm at the door, waiting for you—

For my dream to come true 

before I start slow-dancing with pain again.

Burning woods shudder me hard.

Darling, come back, fulfill my desire.

A shining star hanging high above—

I'm wearing your favorite purple sweater.

I have this special wish to come true tonight.

To be with you, lingering in your warmth and cologne.

I could see you waving at me through the flickering candles.

You left me in early autumn:

A few young daisies and a little note in black.

You promised to come back before Christmas.

I cried toxic tears;

black memories clogged my throat.

I stared at the twinkling stars:

Shattered promises and withered love.

My eyes wandered to the mailbox,

Wishing to see another mail of nothing or something.

I'm kneeling near your coffin, darling.

Come back to me; I'm waiting.

You promised me a Christmas kiss,

a new red scarf, and lots of things.

I am still waiting for you.

The cold breeze and dewy desires

are burning, screaming, burning like embers.

Come back, darling—for my special wish to come true.

Before I feel like you again

and dissolve forever in crushing pain.

—————————————————————————————

A/N: Well, this was quite hard to write, and some of you may be sad. Why not tap the little star and be happy again? Listen to some music; it heals wounds :)