I fell in love with things before I knew anything, and
Falling has always felt like remembering,
Like nostalgia deeply rooted in the soul.
Red tulips and sunlit rooms,
Like I've been here before,
The smell of wildflowers and upturned earth,
It always felt like remembering.
The taste of a cake that felt like a memory, before I had memory
It always felt like remembering, (why did it feel like remembering?)
Like finding love over and over.
Like frosty windows in the dead of winter.
Like sapphire doors and silver brick.
Like muted oak and apple blossom.
Like climbing rooftops and feeling like I could fly,
Like if I'd jump, I'd soar.
Like I have flown before.
Love always feels like remembering,
But remembering feels like death,
Maybe they are one and the same.
I've lost you a thousand times before
A thousand lives we've lived
With at least a thousand more (to go)
But I hardly want to know, if it means saying goodbye
Or maybe that's the death of remembering,
The loss of knowing what you once had.
Old traces of you still linger
Long after we both decay,
Longer still as we're reborn,
And I'm left wondering how much longer
Until we no longer have to part. To break. To drift away.
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Beneath The Light of a Dying Star
PoetryIn these pages, the world is both light and heavy-sometimes in the same breath. This is a catch-call collection of my own poetry, prose and/or lyrics that I've accumulated over the years that I related to and enjoyed writing and re-writing. I don't...
