A cool light on the grey walls, a fading sunset in matching hue. My heart aching at a head full of you in the sunset, under florescent lights, in the blue light of my phone screen. I lean back in an attempt to feel you, I bump against the wall instead, without even shaking you from my head. It's always perfect sunspots, the comfy smile in the worst conditions, those eyes that are already always relaxed and ready to share. There are so many other laughs that I've heard, but yours is the baseplate now, good, for as long as I live. My bed is made, my desk is mostly clear, the streets are emptier than usual and there is unease coursing through the room in bounces, up and down, floating and flowing around at it's own pace beyond me.
I can't even see it, but god I promise I feel it, phasing through me like an ancient anxiety come back from the grave. Mom is home, but there's so much empty space—my own great world. How long will you be outside my window if I keep pretending? What are the odds that I open my door to you, keeping my hopes up? I'm not even in the right town, or the right county, at least I've got the right country. Fade in and out will you? At least give the courtesy of respite so I get chance to try and repair the energy flowing through my body. My eyes crinkle with a smile, I hope like yours—just to express the right emotion which I can't imagine as anything besides your exact way, so honestly and gladly. Sometimes, I don't really strive for independence because it feels like I've already seen the best expression of what I'm looking for.
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Reader's Notes
PoetryA growing collection of prose, old and new, from the teenage years: stories, passing thoughts, poetry. Mental imagery and dialogues straight from thoughts to text. Feel free to leave a comment with feedback or pointing out a small mistake somewhere...
