there’s this ache that permeates my days.
in rainy weather, sunny skies
pizza parties, long work nights
there’s an ache that won’t be satisfied by
anything but the draw of the past.
sometimes I’m arrogant enough
to think the sky is weeping for me
when it rains and I
I weep for the sky, and
it weeps for me.
but a much bigger view reveals that
I am much too small
for something as big and blue to be crying for me
it’s not crying for you
but I am.
the sun shines and I think
of it shining when we
danced through the park just like a movie
like slow-motion laughter and feet in the pond
and forevers and nevers spilling out of our mouths
like a waterfall we couldn’t reign in
but ended up drowning us.
when the sun hides its face behind a mask of gray
I think of the days when we curled up inside
with hot chocolate and The Princess Bride on a small laptop screen
warm socks and warm hands
your hands in my hair, my hair in my face.
but how can the placement of
beat me like a slavedriver?
the sun is just a star, far
and I have my own life now.
and I came to the conclusion
through growing strong and weeks
that nothing weeps for me.
I am my own, and nature can do nothing
the sun just looks on me with apathy.
but I stay indoors just in case
I start to feel things
my room is cozy and almost
as the sun, or your arms
and it’s all that I need.
but then one day my armchair began to weep for me
as I sat in it
engulfed me in its arms until it was suffocating me
and it struck me like a passing thought, a simple “ah”
I realized that I couldn’t breathe.