theheartpounds
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sitting by the window,
strong coffee and trashy magazines.
she waits,
practicing conversations to have with strangers.
x
Writing
i know it now.
to fall asleep to your smile is simply not enough. i fill in the blanks with dreams of you, still being the centre of every scene. and when i wake to your face i know exactly where i am…
reeled in.
Tracing patterns upon your skin, / As if I am executing them / for the first time. Im not sure who you are / Not ready to let you in / Am I just another / Being reeled out and in.
she visits me.
She visits me / In cycles, / Through familiar shapes and sounds. I’ll pretend each time / you’re different, / (you have changed) And love until it breaks.
was it the cure?
I wish I could leave it all behind / Pretend I offer nothing but friendship / But I sit here with tears in my eyes / Frustrated that you are all that’s on my mind / Its impossible. I know that now /…
stranger.
Sitting in a house with a stranger / We’ve shared a bed, our bodies, our time, our space / But never part of ourselves. / Our eyes don’t meet, / our fingers don’t fold over another’s, / our…
skin.
I saw the words upon her skin / They pushed me away / And lured me in. / I wrote the words on her skin / Didn’t realise how quickly / they would sink in.
