Postgrad

August 14, 2013
By daniblum SILVER, Ridgefield, Connecticut
daniblum SILVER, Ridgefield, Connecticut
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

July trailed with its hair in drips
Its fingers on our pillow cases,
We never slept,
We lingered in purple nights giving way to coffee yellow morning.
We were a mess,
the stains in my skirt,
the times I tried to tell you this wasn't working, it never did,
We couldn't give.

When we go around I live in small circles that tighten when your thoughts get near,
oh dear, the next time I see you my freckles will be gone.

And I'll still be standing here with all my walls on fire,
And I'll still braid my hair in the same way,
And I'll fade to your background while you're hovering in my mind's eye,
Because you hold so much light,
I don't want to be just fine.

December creeps in uneasy sweats,
the sets we learned to play at will will drop into the unsuspecting quiet,
but you'll wear black jeans,
and I'll buy a sweater
dress that hangs just like my summer skirts,
It won't be the same and I'm not sure it's worth it,
but damn it,
we,
we're the lucky ones.

When we go around I live in small circles that tighten when your thoughts get near,
Oh dear, the next time I see you
I'll have to put some makeup on.

And I'll still be standing here with all my walls on fire,
And I'll still braid my hair int he same way,
And I'll fade to your background while you're hovering in my mind's eye,
Because you hold so much light,
I don't want to be just fine.

Because you hold so much light,
I don't want to be just fine.


The author's comments:
This piece talks about the hope and pain of letting go, and how it's hard to live in the moment when the future keeps getting closer.

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