we live our lives waiting to die
they say
i'm living my life,
waiting for you
(is that a kind of death, too?)
but isn't it morbid,
to start with the end?
but what are you and me
but a collection of loose moments
and words
and touches
and accidents? (i didn't mean to love you
you don't mean to let me.)
should i talk instead about how you
feel like
sunlight
taste like
the rain
on my skin? does that make it easier for you?
(we have enough endings by now
to start something new.)
written in the stars
- juniper
- Venusian. Diamond's child. Birthed on the first morning star. Loves only the one who is on Mars, Topaz's proud&stubborn son, birthed on the twenty-third starset.
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Share your thoughts; they're bright lines of light in the dust and dark. Be kind to my mistakes and remember that my words are free and not meant to offend, so yours shouldn't be either.