Today I opened my eyes and saw blinding light
and for a few seconds
there was no pain,
no feeling but warmth.
Your body pressed closely
against mine,
sunlight hitting your face.
So peaceful,
almost heavenly.
Isn’t it unfair how the sun gets to kiss your body before I do?

--

--

As the red roses start blooming and the nights get longer I can hear your voice from miles away.
what is the distance between us?
457.951 miles,
7 hours and 56 minutes,
words left hanging and
hearts shattered on the floor.
But now the roses have died and it’s no longer dark outside.
2013 is long gone and I’m not 18 anymore;
“call me when you’re done with her.”
I hear your voice through the speaker,
through the static,
through the pain,
but somehow I’m still waiting for that call.
It’s not going to come,
it’s never gonna come,
but at least for tonight I am alright.

--

--