the story of how i've fallen, and couldn't stand it.


the lights shade on his cheeks
illuminating the dark side of his face
and the mouth that once speak of too many
now shut completely into a lazy grin
while his eyes rest upon me

the vague memory of my past
dance like a Roman lady who's lost because of love
and her toes so slick against gravity
it graces across the freckles which have swarmed
over his smiling bones,
my battered nails
this crisp fear of mine.

this burning ache in my stomach
can't bare the on-purpose absence he's leaving behind,
too human to think about the way-too far-off future
when he'll die,
will i still counter his fragile memories
that have collide with my own?

the leaves fall in autumn colors
and France looks very lovely today
even though its in pictures tacked between the pages
of my journal that i've yet shared with him -
the New York cabs passed through this old town
taking to egypt where sands
matched the color of his skin
and the condition of our current situation.

my lips are bruised from falling too hard
and break too easily -
the violet tune from his guitar spring into the air
coloring the ribs of which carry my lungs
and captivated me with illusion of something pretty.

but i'm too scratched for his fingers to grace
and my Napoleon spirits are slowing down for me to chase,
so i'd leave destiny to take him somewhere new
while i blend myself with the hue of the earth and
drown in Death Cab for Cutie.

my Gryffindor blood tasted bitter for if i was brave,
i'd return his lazy grin from the start, to the end.