i'm back
pictures of white dresses and babies will always remind me of the way you stared into my eyes and told me they sure don't make girls like me back home in kansas...
the way you'd sweep me off my feet and carry me into the bedroom, where you knew what I liked and everything went my way; no explanation was ever needed...
the way you referred to me as your blue-eyed beauty, and promised me soft grass and open skies.
i see you at least once a week, though usually in pieces. pieces of you in other people... eyes and noses, mainly... or in the subtle curves of a smile. music still haunts me -- half of the songs on my playlist will always belong to you. your voice finds its way in to the most random songs... by r. kelly, buddy jewel, old 97's, incubus... so that no musical genre is ever truly safe. and as far as "our song" is concerned... the four right chords can still make me cry. i can still feel the rush of breath, hot on my neck, as you fill my ears with beautiful lies. the simplest ones were always the most heartbreaking.
and every night, before i fall asleep, i feel the steady weight of your hand across my barely-palpitating heart... recall the tears streaming down my face, and barely choking out the words "it's breaking," as i clutched your hand to my chest... and then watching as you turned around and walked away, getting smaller and smaller until you disappeared completely.
the way you'd sweep me off my feet and carry me into the bedroom, where you knew what I liked and everything went my way; no explanation was ever needed...
the way you referred to me as your blue-eyed beauty, and promised me soft grass and open skies.
i see you at least once a week, though usually in pieces. pieces of you in other people... eyes and noses, mainly... or in the subtle curves of a smile. music still haunts me -- half of the songs on my playlist will always belong to you. your voice finds its way in to the most random songs... by r. kelly, buddy jewel, old 97's, incubus... so that no musical genre is ever truly safe. and as far as "our song" is concerned... the four right chords can still make me cry. i can still feel the rush of breath, hot on my neck, as you fill my ears with beautiful lies. the simplest ones were always the most heartbreaking.
and every night, before i fall asleep, i feel the steady weight of your hand across my barely-palpitating heart... recall the tears streaming down my face, and barely choking out the words "it's breaking," as i clutched your hand to my chest... and then watching as you turned around and walked away, getting smaller and smaller until you disappeared completely.