Under the bleached sun

 

Tracy Chapman was singing through the speakers.

Drunkenly we lay, telling stories.

Too many fragments of dreams

swaying between the walls of reality,

and you said baby, can I hold you tonight.

We lay. Naked as the day sunlight

first burned our skin away.

Smoke and ashes

Innocent. Just to be close

was all we craved. To feel hearts raised

with a reason to exist in a world

where we walked like a fine mist.

 

You walked a fine white line.

I was living on that liquid sea.

Misunderstood.

A different time, another world,

somewhere far away.

Whenever our worlds flood

we would ride that wave,

knowing that it was like

teasing the edge of a blade.

 

Past memories bring their tears

and over the years I've looked back

wondered where paths could have led,

if instead of chasing highs

to block out the lows,

we had just accepted

the way our rivers flowed,

but we tried to take that fast car,

to let our minds soar so far...

The knife left so many deep scars.

 

We lay under the bleached sun 

for that one fine day.

All of our troubles seemed so far away.

Never meant to be more,

We were like a shore always ready to be engulfed

with the tide crawling close,

but for just one day we sat under the sun,

the darkness didn't come

and cover our windows.

 

You were so hurt by life.

Misunderstood.

I was on the path of misery.

You walked your own dreamworld,

without a care for anyone

but the girl who cried in your head.

I walked the path where it led.

Trying to still the thoughts that spread.

We always split at the crossroads,

If only we had been sober

we could have found other pathways 

to help each other,

but we sank even deeper instead.

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love & Poetry 

 

Kyle