Thursday, December 3, 2015

untitled

We colored the stars with our promises,
you kissed one and i kissed one
with all the good intentions we could muster
and we flung them off the edge of the world.
They bounced around like basketballs
and landed somewhere between hope and dissolusion.
Were do dreams go to rest their eyes?
Do they use shadows as their pillowcases,
Rain clouds as their beds?
I promised you the sunset,
and when I came to you,
cupped hands overflowing with dandelions
you told me the sun can't be captured;
can't be tamed.
But I found some sunrays for you,
and I bottled them up with your name as the label.
I asked you to drink me,
said I'd make you small;
microscopic.
You could feel almost invisible,
with only your flaws apparent.
I heard a man yelling once,
he said "eat of my body"
so I did and inside the bowl of skin
I found sins upon sins.
Imbibing of human dreams is a dangerous trick.
It can make you dissapear,
or it can make you powerful, magic, strong beyond belief.
I threw our story in a wishing well
and the sound it made as it hit the water
wasn't a splash,
it was a sob.
But it belonged there.

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