i promise i will look for your face in every photograph. i promise. you are not the boy i love. you cannot be the boy who wants to become another peter pan. you are not him, you never can be. however, i will always search for you in crowds when i am alone. i will sing songs of you to the skies and they will draw patterns of you in blue and white and orange. i will conjure up words and poems to think of you. i will run away from people and places and blame you. and at night i will empty the sepia of my eyes to my pillow. yet, i will search for you. and find you, perhaps?
in some photograph. an old class photograph. not visible at first. but then, perfectly discernible. i will chart the laughlines on your face with my eyes, and some archaic voice of you will laugh in my head. it will be almost maddening how parts of you will have survived still, and how they will continue to haunt me sometimes, despite being safely buried in the sepulchre of my heart.
you are fear. yet, i will search for your face. in photographs, in crowds, in farawaylands. in unwelcome dreams. in songs. in poetry. and somehow you will live right inside me. parts of you i couldn't let time gnaw away at. and someday i will stare at one of the photographs long and hard, and try and scan through them to see you grinning. and wonder if the smile you are wearing is the one i left you.
i promise i will look for you in unknown, tucked-away photographs and new ones, too. and wait for that grin, the one i left you, to disappear. and for a new one to appear. that is the day my world wouldn't come off in pieces.
in some photograph. an old class photograph. not visible at first. but then, perfectly discernible. i will chart the laughlines on your face with my eyes, and some archaic voice of you will laugh in my head. it will be almost maddening how parts of you will have survived still, and how they will continue to haunt me sometimes, despite being safely buried in the sepulchre of my heart.
you are fear. yet, i will search for your face. in photographs, in crowds, in farawaylands. in unwelcome dreams. in songs. in poetry. and somehow you will live right inside me. parts of you i couldn't let time gnaw away at. and someday i will stare at one of the photographs long and hard, and try and scan through them to see you grinning. and wonder if the smile you are wearing is the one i left you.
i promise i will look for you in unknown, tucked-away photographs and new ones, too. and wait for that grin, the one i left you, to disappear. and for a new one to appear. that is the day my world wouldn't come off in pieces.
1 comment:
"i will sing songs of you to the skies and they will draw patterns of you in blue and white and orange."
- Beautifully written. :)
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