scenic pebble
Lamplit Dreams Of You
The air chills me to the bone.
I’m here, as always, in this chair.
I always thought the comfortability in my loneliness was acceptance.
It turns out it’s just spite.
For I swill my drink in this glass and I can almost make you out in the swirl of this poison that I so calmly volunteer upon myself.
It seems to me that the lamplight is calling me home from dreams of an early rapture.
Because if our souls are not able to intertwine then what is the purpose of mine other than quick and utter extinction?
I twirl this coin in between my fingers and think back to memories of how I could change it out for strands of your hair or your soft supple skin.
As I daydream the coin falls to the floor and hits it with almost a thundering boom as I’m snapped back to reality without you, and once again.
Once again my fingers are empty and so is my heart.
I never see you now and perhaps that’s for the best.
For I’m a prisoner to the strings you run through my chest.
When I look in your eyes and I feel the loving breeze of you, I open the windows of my soul to fill my broken home with your essence.
This perfume will never grace my halls again and I’m lost.
I click the lamplight off as to hide my tears in this darkness ashamed.
I go to bed.
I lay awake.
wintry root