You Helped to Pass the Time

I am unsure where to start, with your words wrapped around my knees, pulling at my dress so slightly, but so eager to please. Maybe it's the missing substance, or the way you used to be, with the nervous glances and shaking hands; a little less than me. But a knife dropped and in its fall took the innocence of the Lord. I could not blame you for your actions, so don't blame me for being born.

Perhaps it was the initiation when they paved the streets all wrong. Or was it that blue bird in the street, singing that melancholy song? Things like this, they just don't work. You're the night and I'm the day. For short times we can exist together but the rest cannot stay, their lives live in mirrors; fighting to keep the world true. Forgive my envy and apathy for not letting me get close to you.

Something light just struck the street between the blue falling feathers and the disorganization of feet. It made me step back and the world seemed split in two. I had lost, regained, and lost some more, now I'm left with just the hope of you.

But it's surprising how little I miss you. It's only at night between cocktail smiles when I think of your laugh. I've been sleeping in playgrounds between eerie grey flowers, throwing myself through the days and sweating every night. Four pages down and another ninety to go, you promised me a story about a boy who never gets attached. It turned into a biography. There were flowers on every page and a lullaby as an epilogue.

"Sweet, sweet air why don't you sing? Why don't you trust the life that you can bring? You've been through mountains and crossed sacred cemeteries; if you'd trace your fingers through my hair I'll keep it between you and me."