in the quiet moments, you can hear the noises outside the walls of my room. somehow, between dreams, i often forget that the world is still spinning. as the world celebrates special days, i find myself getting pulled into the thoughts of you and your absence.
it's already dead cold on the fifth of september and i know you would think it's christmas already. you would give me gummy bears and lollipops in shades of green and write happy birthday papa jesus on the gift wrapper. we would taste the first flake of snow underneath the mistletoe and create snow angels with broken wings.
when easter comes, i will leave out brightly colored eggs for you to hunt. i will scatter them out in the garden where i planted your favorite flowers, and i will start to believe that you will grow and flourish with them.
the stars seem colder now, their light distant and aloof, as if they mourn the absence of your eyes upon them. but i’d like to think you are living among them; just far away, but still there, watching over me. and somehow, beyond the walls of my room, i know you are dreaming with me.
๓.
delilah
YOU ARE READING
17, Still Can't Swim
Poetryshe took madness too seriously, all written in paper with her own blood.
