My Hands, Your Lips, Our Eyes.
My Hands, Your Lips, Our Eyes.
My hands, you use to say they were perfect.
That I had perfect hands.
I wonder if you even noticed them before you left.
I see my hands everyday, but I never really look at them.
At least I havnt in years. But… Im looking at them now.
Time is showing, the texture is changing.
Fine lines cover my knuckles.
There seems to be more wrinkles where they bend.
They say you can tell someones age by their hands.
I wonder if it’s a fair representation.
I wonder if what my hands where to you, is what your lips are to me.
Soft, pink, plump, warm, delicate, perfect.
I wonder if Id recognize them. If in fact I were to ever see them again.
If we ever see each other again.
Our eyes looked so similar.
Like the same eyes on a different day.
They knew each other so well.
But I wonder if they would recognize each other now? Or later?
Somehow I don’t think so.
A change in shade, hue, fine lines, and wrinkles.
Lines of happiness and pain. Everything in between.
One just as indistinguishable as the other.
I wonder if itd be they cant, or wont want to recognize.
Or maybe theyd wish they had never forgotten.
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by ShawnCoss
Someplace unfamiliar
with every step.
I move further from this earth.
This being ive become.
clouds once looming over head,
now just a haze someplace below.
That place.
One I never knew and will never know.
Could never know.
With every wish Ive held my breath.
let down.
Im running out, t
urning blue as that very color fades from it.
Those calming words you spoke to me.
That calming voice,
bringing sanity.
as there once was…
again nothing will be.
Prolonging pain.
Inducing change.
a short glimpse at clarity.
The night provides the day.
fire, the beauty of the flame.
And the ashes,
the perfect place,
a clean slate.
Vulturesby offermoord
Bite me scratch me bruise me. leave your mark. Make me remember everything, every move we made.
