The Forest We Call Home

I Am But You Are Not

My heart pounds at the gate of my chest, beating to be uncensored. It hurts me to not be free about how I feel, because I know what I am and I know what you are not. The crescent moon watches from a far and I gaze deep into your sapphire eyes.

You speak of your future so enthusiastically, how you'd be an American Great, an actor known in every household. I smile, seeing myself by your side on the red carpets. I saw our love being immortalized on the silver screen. You went on about your break out role and what you'd wear at the Oscars.

I should tell you my devotions, but my sour, inner voice stirs up a commotion. I brush it off like dust clinging onto a fragile vase. Tonight I will tell you, tell you how you've got my bruised hearts fate in your hands

A gently breeze rustles through the tall grass of our field. I pan across the clearing in the pine woods. I saw our quaint summer home here, where we'd get away from the paparazzi and away from the public eye. You paused, taking in the moment like I am.

I'd die happy here, with you. I'd die a thousand times to stay here, with you, in this moment.

I wait for an moment, just a moment to breath, then I confess to you. How much I adore you, I fumble my words and stutter on my vowels. I become flustered, why do I feel so guilty? Am I saying too much? Too little? What have I done to us?

Your bright blue eyes fade into pity in the light of our campfire. You pity me as if I were a stray bird. I hate this moment of wait, waiting for your words to cut me a thousand times. Please say something, I can not bare another second of this silence. You stay silent, choosing your words carefully.

Like an archer from a hillto, your words tear through me silently and I'm left to die alone. Please leave me not like this.

Tears stain my cheek as I ache alone. I am young and this broken heart has endured many like you. You get close just to pierce a dagger through me. Am I not deserving of affection or perhaps I am not. I am your friend, I am your support, I am your ear but I am no more than dirt when I need you.

Solemn did she look at me from above, she who has the silver bow, is my loveless heart her doing. Pity like rain on my lap as our fire dwindled to ash.

Something that sung, once inside of me, left with the smoke of our dead flame. I know now my path is not a summer home in this field and not beside a man I would devote myself to. I'd walk on the beach with only one pair of feet imprinted in the sand.

I sit under the stars and the crescent moon, tears fall down on the soft grass. I was in love and you were not.