I remember the days of our lonely union with a bitter-sweet haze. We spoke of everything that moved within our lives. The haunting monster that was our choking past, the lingering uncertainty on which we critiqued our present & the unknown future we spoke so wishfully of.
Our aspirations, we promised to be a supportive team for them both as only we knew how much yearned for the recognition of success. The butterflies that rose in our stomachs whenever we concocted our dreams out loud were enough to brush away any sort of negative judgement.
But as these memories grow further and further apart from each other, the butterflies that we once contained in the jar of our fragile hearts have now escaped and flown free.
And so these memories no longer belong to us. They belong to the night sky, forming into their own intricate constellations. Though star by star, they make up the complicated puzzle that was our modest friendship.
Perhaps we'll meet again someday..like a beautiful collision.
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I thought I'd try my hand at writing some prose, although I'm pretty sure I've used that form before without my literacy knowledge. I was reading Lang Leav's new book today and though there was plenty of pieces in there that particularly hit home with me. There was one called 'A Beautiful Collision' which happened to describe a past relationship I once had.
So I referenced it there at the end of my own. My heart has been reminiscing quite wistfully within these past couple of days...I guess I've reached the point of where I miss the memories rather than the person, although they go hand in hand.
I miss conversations.
Granted, I have millions of them every week with all kinds of people. Some last hours, some only a few minutes. But there's one type of conversation that I used to have with someone, it was bathed with a heavenly comfort that lasted even within our abrupt pauses and silences...I haven't been able to replicate that with anyone else.
Therefore, I wrote this.
Sincerely Yours,
Liliana.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry (2015-2017)
PoetryThis is poetry for the soul from Yours Truly. Volume 1. "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute, we read and write poetry because we are members of the human race." - John Keating aka Robin Williams. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Co...
