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:iconsecondaryorange: More from SecondaryOrange


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December 3, 2009
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i like to think that love is a choice.
that we're able to scoop it up once it's within our reach
feel it and fold it and hold it
spread it all over our faces like it's watercolour paint
until its in us and we're in it
and we are full of those gorgeous colours
that you only find in sunsets and jungles and your words.
then
wash it off and watch the pretty sunset colours
as they swirl down the shower drain
until there was no trace that it was ever there
and we'd be better off.


but that's never how it works.
i can remember that one night in june as we
lay on a sleeping bag in my backyard
huddled together and staring up at the sky
as the stars gazed back at us
surely jealous of the sparkle in your eyes.
you told me that
stars never really stand still
that they're moving
and rushing by and grazing past each other
so close
and then they're gone.
i told you that maybe we're like stars.


july was full of happy.
happy and happy and the smell of chlorine when
you were pressed up against me
but i'm still not quite sure why
and we sat in the grass that brushed up against our legs
we talked about anything and everything.
i whispered my love to you
but
maybe i shouldn't have
because your words were empty and cold
even though the heat was visible in the air
and we would swing on the swingsets at the playground
the wind grabbed at our toes
as our shoes fell somewhere in between all the dandilions.


the sun was setting.
worry hung over me like a dark cloud by august
and i didn't know how good i had it before and i still didn't
and i'd glance over at you and when you looked back
the colours of your eyes would burn a hole in my heart
and i missed your fingertips
on my skin
and i missed counting the freckles on your cheeks
i missed your breath on my neck.
i didn't know what was wrong
because
all the warmth of before had run away
and it was replaced with a feeling i still don't know the name of.


i never quite understood you.
how you would write letters to me in black ink
that smelled of chemicals and nightmares and you thought it was
beautiful
and that made me want to be like nightmares too
all hollow and dark and empty
just so that you would think i was as pretty.
i began noticing how your eyes weren't bright anymore
and how all those vibrant blues and greens of a sunny day
were replaced with the dull gray of a sidewalk in the rain.
and we never spoke.
i would watch you smoke your cigarettes
on the porch at night.


and you'd always look at the sky.
i can remember that exact day
(it was fall now)
you looked over at me and said that
yes
we are like stars.
even though you're long gone, sometimes i like to pretend that he's you.



okay, i have absolutely nooo clue where this came from.
or who's point of view it's from.
oh well.
it was kind of spur of the moment.
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:iconxyxoz:
beautiful.
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:iconlinitaa:
Linitaa Dec 5, 2009  Hobbyist General Artist
Aw, it sounds nice... nicely written at least, since the content isn't necessarily happy. And I like that too. Good job.
Reply
:iconhypnyp2:
Hypnyp2 Dec 4, 2009  Hobbyist Digital Artist
<3
Reply
:iconspritelyseamstress:
SpritelySeamstress Dec 3, 2009  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Really, really well done. <3
Reply
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