In dreams, I move mountains and tides and the moon. I turn roads upside down, cities downside up, trying to rip the whole wide world apart to find some meaning in the words that have been said. Only when I wake up, I realise I can only move my hands and feet, so I lie for a few minutes in the darkness, thinking of how just a few minutes ago, I could have moved the whole world if I wanted to.
Do you realise you only leave things up to fate when you’ve resigned and you tell yourself “if it’s meant to be it will be?” But it is more like a question, hanging heavy above the thoughts you would so dearly love to shun away from your existence, but they follow you like a herd of stags, haunting you and reminding you every single day that it has not happened yet. You choose the roads you’re on; nothing more. You say all you need to say to that person; that’s all you can do. Yes well, even after the answers given and silences lost are the only things that happen, you still sit there in your lonely landscapes and say to yourself “if it’s meant to be it will be” like a lost lullaby, rocking yourself to sleep. And isn’t that the saddest thing?
Because one day, I can see you smiling and waving like everything is perfect, and the way your hair would catch a slight breeze and it would look careless, tossed. And when the sun crosses your eyes, you would seem so distant. I would try and make you smile one last time, before you go and start your new life. As you fade away into a far off horizon, I would’ve made you laugh, and you would’ve made me cry.
Answer only this: as you begin to take flight and look at the world around you, do you ever sense my lingering presence surrounding you in the air you inhabit, in the sky that you breathe?
I have viewed about perhaps
a million sunsets and moonrises,
witnessed the dawn leaking through the cracks
and gaps of everchanging landscapes
tried to swim across vast oceans
as the sun arced across the sky
and tried to find home in the
strangest of places;
airplane hangers and small exchanges in numbers
never once have I thought
of your inability
to jump across quickly
and catch me as I fall in these ideals
Maybe that’s because I loved you best.
I guess for now, you could say I’m as lost as you are. So why don’t we get lost together? Make it seem like these trees that block our way are roadsigns to give us some direction, like these faded arrows could somehow come back to life and point us towards where we’re supposed to be. Spend some time beneath these sparse branches and spread our warmth under the winter sky, waiting for some sign of life to eventually come get us.
(via sit-u-ations)
Darling, do you see these hands?
Mine are old and withered and grey
but shed some light in certain angles
and you’ll see that these scars were made for you.
You know, maybe one day we’ll find each other. I’m not talking about meeting again for the first time, or realising we were there by each other the whole time. I’m talking about the intimacy two people were struggling to have, but eventually, after lifetimes of exploring, come back to. It is that magical moment when everything falls into place and you realise that nothing, not a single thing in the whole world, can satisfy that gap and craving we have for one another.
I think we should just take off. Soon. In the end, nothing else matters but you. And all those cliche lines of finding home with you will be true, but it is something else more altogether. You are my home in the unfamiliar, in the wilderness.
(via palides)
