chrissy
Ex-Bluelighter
- Joined
- Aug 19, 2003
- Messages
- 971
he is far,
but i rest.
i rest in that last night..
i rest in his arms holding me tight.
eyes finally closed at 4 only to wake up at 7 and cry tears which spill over his arm, waking him up.
promises never last- but this one may.
i keep the rose he gave me on my shelf- the wrapper still on, the burgundy colour merging with the deep blood-red the rose once was a week ago.
i play with his bracelet and let it slip between my fingers, remembering the night i clumsily tried to piece it together- to form no gaps.
i play with images in my mind: my head in his lap, his hands stroking my face.
our first kiss, where i apologised, then reached up to his lips again, not meaning the apology.
his tears are forever etched into my mind. i catch them with my thumbs just as he did mine.
somewhere, under this same sky, some 8 hours driving distance, rests a boy, and yet nearly a man... that says he loves me. that says he won't let go. that says i'm the best thing that's happened to him for a while now.
he is far,
but i don't forget.
i don't forget that last night...
i don't forget his arms holding me tight.
he made me laugh till my ribs hurt and each night, the tower lit up in the city and he pointed to it, "it's so sparkly"...
we punched walls together- crying that it's not fair, crying we should be together, crying because we love each other.
with every word, with every thought, i let myself fall for him. over and over again, knowing the inevitable would soon occur- i'd be hurt.
life's beautiful. life's a pain. life's fucked. but life offers to you. it's up to u to take what you will. discard what you want.
he is far,
but there's buses.
trains.
cars.
planes.
hitch-hiking.
but best of all, there's dreams.
and they can all take me to him.
so as i sit here and cry, typing this... i laugh at myself, because i remember taking out my eyeliner and inscribing three little words into his arm.. words which get used and abused so many times by so many people in so many days: "i love you".
i stare down at my thigh and see traces of the pen he used to inscribe back the reply...
but i rest.
i rest in that last night..
i rest in his arms holding me tight.
eyes finally closed at 4 only to wake up at 7 and cry tears which spill over his arm, waking him up.
promises never last- but this one may.
i keep the rose he gave me on my shelf- the wrapper still on, the burgundy colour merging with the deep blood-red the rose once was a week ago.
i play with his bracelet and let it slip between my fingers, remembering the night i clumsily tried to piece it together- to form no gaps.
i play with images in my mind: my head in his lap, his hands stroking my face.
our first kiss, where i apologised, then reached up to his lips again, not meaning the apology.
his tears are forever etched into my mind. i catch them with my thumbs just as he did mine.
somewhere, under this same sky, some 8 hours driving distance, rests a boy, and yet nearly a man... that says he loves me. that says he won't let go. that says i'm the best thing that's happened to him for a while now.
he is far,
but i don't forget.
i don't forget that last night...
i don't forget his arms holding me tight.
he made me laugh till my ribs hurt and each night, the tower lit up in the city and he pointed to it, "it's so sparkly"...
we punched walls together- crying that it's not fair, crying we should be together, crying because we love each other.
with every word, with every thought, i let myself fall for him. over and over again, knowing the inevitable would soon occur- i'd be hurt.
life's beautiful. life's a pain. life's fucked. but life offers to you. it's up to u to take what you will. discard what you want.
he is far,
but there's buses.
trains.
cars.
planes.
hitch-hiking.
but best of all, there's dreams.
and they can all take me to him.
so as i sit here and cry, typing this... i laugh at myself, because i remember taking out my eyeliner and inscribing three little words into his arm.. words which get used and abused so many times by so many people in so many days: "i love you".
i stare down at my thigh and see traces of the pen he used to inscribe back the reply...
