Thinking
not mine... can't remember who wrote it though...
Thinking. Can't stop thinking.
Think of you. This. That. That Life. That day.
That dream was mine.
A utopian dream.
Your aura; struck me like lightning to a tree.
Pointy, like a star, you shone.
So bright, yet not shining as a star would,
But as apparent as white chalk on a blackboard.
You would not show off like a star.
Yet you did burn so hot, so fiercely, so explosively -
you were a star in my eyes.
But like all stars, you died.
That gas was gone.
No pull between us.
The atmosphere was dry
and I began to choke.
I was taken from my star - like a child being taken from its poor,
drunken mother - I did not know what was happening.
Dazed. Confused. Without true reality, I there sat.
Wondering.
The end of my world had only just begun, with yours beginning.
Thinking. Can't stop thinking.
Think of you. This. That. That Life. That day.
That dream was mine.
A utopian dream.
Your aura; struck me like lightning to a tree.
Pointy, like a star, you shone.
So bright, yet not shining as a star would,
But as apparent as white chalk on a blackboard.
You would not show off like a star.
Yet you did burn so hot, so fiercely, so explosively -
you were a star in my eyes.
But like all stars, you died.
That gas was gone.
No pull between us.
The atmosphere was dry
and I began to choke.
I was taken from my star - like a child being taken from its poor,
drunken mother - I did not know what was happening.
Dazed. Confused. Without true reality, I there sat.
Wondering.
The end of my world had only just begun, with yours beginning.