I can taste chaos. I can see the pain in eyes like yours like the wind that rushes past my nose. I can feel the tears of the universe as it cries for you; a soul so lost it forgot how to cry for itself. And you, you'll never know the feel of my heart or the taste of chaos on my lips or the way my breath craves yours. I watch the trees cry for you, and, baby, I cry too but not for you.
Baby, I'm just as lost as you. I remember what it was like to know you were here and, baby, it hurts. When I gave you my love, you taught me to hate, and now I hate me most of all. Hell, I hate the air I breathe because it wouldn't let me die. I hate the sun because its warmth reminds me what it is to be alive, and I fucking love being alive. Those trees, you know, may be strong and wise, but they only survive as many winters as they can before they give up and die. I, I will not give up even in the longest winter. I will not let go until I see summer, smile away my own tears and succumb to the final adventure. Those trees, they're strong but they know what it is to be free. You and me, we have to be stronger to see. And I'm sorry, but I'll look ahead until I forget about the winters I spent alone craving you, and I will see.
(6 December 2014, Prose)
YOU ARE READING
An Aged, Bitter Collection of Poetry, Prose, & Papers
PoesieThere once was a sad girl, not that long ago, in a kingdom not so far away. Perhaps a glance into her somber scribbles might help you on your quest to scribble for yourself.
