what else do I have but mind.
I left my heart in the sky, detonating like so many fireworks on the fourth of July.
Everyone set up chairs and sat about. Children looked on in wonder, as the shells
broke, and the fire ignited a phoenix, only this time it died. and when the oohs and
aahs subsided, the light went out from the heavens, and the stars fell like tears
from the dark blue night ...
For some love is a simple formula; You do or you don't and when the times get tough the party ends and people move on. For others it's unfortunately not so simple. The details are the devil. I entwined myself in her, and her in me, and we were a beautiful chimera. My soul breathed in the aether of her spirit, grew drunk and dependent. I cared for her with a reverence reserved for gods and goddess. She went mad, and desperate for my attentions. We suffered for our love. I endured for her sanity. We sacrificed life for a hope of some future that never came.
But what of it?
I just spent the evening with my ex, from the longest relationship I've ever had (6 and a half years) and her boyfriend. We played video games and laughed and ate pizza and showed each other funny videos on Youtube. He's a swell guy, and she's as radiant as always. But I've never come to terms with the dissolution of our love, even though I pulled the plug.
Such a lonesome bastard I've become. But as they say: "time heals all wounds", and cliche's like those are what makes the world go round, if you catch my meaning. Maybe my anti-depressants aren't working as well as they could be.
I can't convey to you the smell of her hair, or the sparkle of her eyes, or the touch of her lips. Even were it possible to express it clearly, you can't feel it from my perspective, only through the filter of your mind.
What else do we have but mind.
It's starting to feel like an Island.
drifting off in the pacific, on trade winds carrying sweet scents and seed casings; spiders gliding on spun webbed wings, and sea birds singing mocking tunes, while plucking fish as if they were placed there for them. The water is warm, and the sky is blue, blue, blue. The trees grow out and up, and twist and reach for the mother sun, the creator, the giver. Rats scurry about, catching bugs, and nibbling on what ever I happen to leave behind.
But I am for all my fauna and flora, lacking in company.
I talk to myself, I wander the shore, and stare towards
a horizon, empty, flat, barren.
Even an Island paradise can be torture, when there is no one to share it with.
Echos ... of things long lost.
Voyeurism for the lonely heart.
I left my heart in the sky, detonating like so many fireworks on the fourth of July.
Everyone set up chairs and sat about. Children looked on in wonder, as the shells
broke, and the fire ignited a phoenix, only this time it died. and when the oohs and
aahs subsided, the light went out from the heavens, and the stars fell like tears
from the dark blue night ...
For some love is a simple formula; You do or you don't and when the times get tough the party ends and people move on. For others it's unfortunately not so simple. The details are the devil. I entwined myself in her, and her in me, and we were a beautiful chimera. My soul breathed in the aether of her spirit, grew drunk and dependent. I cared for her with a reverence reserved for gods and goddess. She went mad, and desperate for my attentions. We suffered for our love. I endured for her sanity. We sacrificed life for a hope of some future that never came.
But what of it?
I just spent the evening with my ex, from the longest relationship I've ever had (6 and a half years) and her boyfriend. We played video games and laughed and ate pizza and showed each other funny videos on Youtube. He's a swell guy, and she's as radiant as always. But I've never come to terms with the dissolution of our love, even though I pulled the plug.
Such a lonesome bastard I've become. But as they say: "time heals all wounds", and cliche's like those are what makes the world go round, if you catch my meaning. Maybe my anti-depressants aren't working as well as they could be.
I can't convey to you the smell of her hair, or the sparkle of her eyes, or the touch of her lips. Even were it possible to express it clearly, you can't feel it from my perspective, only through the filter of your mind.
What else do we have but mind.
It's starting to feel like an Island.
drifting off in the pacific, on trade winds carrying sweet scents and seed casings; spiders gliding on spun webbed wings, and sea birds singing mocking tunes, while plucking fish as if they were placed there for them. The water is warm, and the sky is blue, blue, blue. The trees grow out and up, and twist and reach for the mother sun, the creator, the giver. Rats scurry about, catching bugs, and nibbling on what ever I happen to leave behind.
But I am for all my fauna and flora, lacking in company.
I talk to myself, I wander the shore, and stare towards
a horizon, empty, flat, barren.
Even an Island paradise can be torture, when there is no one to share it with.
Echos ... of things long lost.
Voyeurism for the lonely heart.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
8 years together, how can you ever really get over spending that much time with someone in your life? Especially when things weren't necessarily HORRIBLE...they just weren't right.