Flotsam of your memory, supinely on my bed, satin pillowcase underneath your head. Jetsam piles keep floating, on your furious sea, Whispers of chimera dreams, given back to me. There, among the clouds. There, I saw you sleep. Songs of remembrance here, where I weep.
I, the #flotsam that braves the storm, that exists, that survives, only to observe from outside my own window, to watch me make the same mistakes and call it life. The rubbish that fills the junkyard in my head, soul, heart… art. Me, watching from the outside.
#Vestiges of us: spilled wine on dinner, candles lit, cold seeping from an open refrigerator, oven reeks of burnt Dutch apple pie. Someone’s knocking. Living room decorated with sparkling glass shards from the coffee table. Someone’s banging. “Anyone home?”
Darkness wraps her in stars, allows her wishes only he can grant. Light is jealous, for he gave her calm in storms, paths through tumultuous seas, clouds for fantasies, dreams. “Will Darkness keep your heart?” “No, but there’s no pain in his arms.”
We remain after years of blame. We don’t talk much, but I hear the music in the #void that you became. Piano strums meddling with the hint of soft drums, as quiet and regretful as your soul. “Forgive me.” Your words, beautiful intent, untrusting in delivery.
The rain spills secrets. During storms, Layce sits on the sidewalk and soaks in as many as her prying ears can fit. Yesterday, the rain whispered her parents didn’t love each other anymore. It hissed as it washed over and drowned her in sorrow. 1/2 The rain spills secrets and the sun dries them away. […]
Null, #void, surrounded by glow-in-the-dark star decals. Left bud in your ear, right in mine. The exquisite feeling of this place, written in lyrics on the insides of cassette tapes. Kisses sweet, soft on your lips. Promises promises, “Never forget.”