In The End

Spring skies are too temperamental, Fall is good for showing off, Winter lasts too long and Summer is over too quickly. But You will always be my favorite season.

I can feel it (in the air)

it is our time

the time is ours

time belongs to us

while you were sleeping

your breath is the only rhythm that can soothe me to sleep
nothing but waves of energy surging in and out the room
how one could forget these little things is not fathomable
the window is cracked the height of a finger just like you said
well it doesn't feel like summer yet it doesn't feel like
anything we can do to slow down time but the clock ticks
as i try to steady my chest i lose complete control instead
so it has come to this again it's come to this
agony is best felt when looking back and not ahead
but i cannot turn around and my feet they cannot
touch the ground so angel i can leave without
a sound

two separate lives

The tired Pacific sun was a comforting, warm hue of tangerine. The scent of the air tasted like all the years left behind, full of words unspoken and things unseen. I felt as if no time had passed, like perhaps my new life was a vivid dream and I’d been here all along. Sometimes nostalgia can be quite subtle, and other times it can build up until you start to choke, blinded by an oblivion of all the little pricks and pinches your head forced your heart to ignore. You realize love is when all the things that used to drive you mad are the very things that make you swell up inside. Every corner I turned there was a different story laying dim-lit in the distance, wondering if I still remembered. One day they’ll be gone.