I long for the view.

 

As I drift past

steel monolith metaphors,

carried along the

errant currents

of the liquid night.

I venture towards

a streetlight,

flickering memory light.

A memory of a kiss,

lost in bliss

under fluffy similes.

The mysterious moon

manipulates the view,

making me feel more

at ease.

 

Words rush past me,

one stops

and tries to grab

my floating attention.

Asking if I have any change,

I think,

"I've changed so much"

but my words rearrange.

"So much I could change."

I feel a crush in my chest,

my heart breaking its cage.

Remembering a fleeting distant hug

where we felt, we couldn't ever let go.

 

Past some old tired cliches,

some baggy hooded analogies.

Along oxymoron streets

with no beginning or end.

I traipse along these moonlit tropes,

feeling the weight

of great expectations.

I remember

the smell of flowers.

The perfume that hugged your skin,

the song we'd sing

in the pouring rain, feeling no pain,

just the sense of finally belonging.

 

Now I long for those hazy hills,

the lazy morning walks 

to nowheres shores.

the long nighttime talks,

never a chore.

I felt myself blend

into the still scenery

becoming just another word

in someone else's story.

A memory. A ghost. A verse.

Just a part

of the grand universe.

Without a clue,

nor destination.

Just along for the view.

 

 

Thanks for reading

Endless Nightmares out now

300 pages of horror themed poetic storytelling

 https://amzn.to/42H2OGw

Please take a look at my previous collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle