The feelings they never made words for
The cold winter night buried itself into my quiet veins, it’s sentiment cutting through me like a wild ocean’s waves. There were words tattooed inside every cloud above me, each one spelling out the vastness inside my chest;
the feelings they never made words for.
I always wondered, every time I look up at the snow covered trees above my minuscule figure, why the smell of dandelions makes me cry;
I then remembered with an ache in my bones,
that your mouth always tasted of the sky,
of the sky, and dandelions.
I carried the world upon my back, it’s teeth digging into my fragile skin.
So I washed the smell of home from my hands, I ripped open the sky and let its life fall down upon me, spilling its years all over my skin, burning me from the inside out like the sun resting on my spine.
Tonight I’ll miss you more than ever,
I’ll miss you as I run through the sunflower filled air, your memory ripping through my soul. I’ll wash the taste of you from beneath my tongue, with books and the vapid feeling of my heart beating against my ribcage; reminding me that theres something still alive inside of me.
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