I look in the past sometimes.
While staring at a blank future.
Questioning the tiny holes in the stars.
And why tonight I couldn’t see the light.



It rained today.
Unlike the fog of yesterday.
It didn’t make me sad.
Just sang the tune of slow falling emotions.



I just didn’t want them to be heard.



It was you on the phone in my ear.
Always wanted to make you proud.
Make you think I was ok when I was falling at that moment.
Make you think that the scissors were for an art project.




Promising you a scrapbook.





While I already had many on my arms.




I never questioned the change in the evening sky.
& Why pink seemed to be the pigment it liked most.
I think it heard me talking that day.
After that it was only grey.




I wrote you a couplet but never finished before the stars burned out.
I think I lost the last line somewhere between the moon and distant clouds.
But I hope you know I think of you every November.
That I thought of you. Today.




I guess I’m anxious these days.
When I can’t seem to find anything to do.
Trying to hurry up the things I could make last for hours.
My hands shaking with a thin paintbrush in my hands.




I swore I painted you flowers.
Today.






 
Grey.

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others