Photo Source: http://robtpatrick.wordpress.com/2013/10/
July 3, 2014 / 6:59 P.M.
I held a pen and paper close to my chest
As I drove past the leaves stained pavement
The negatives of your smile and sleepy eyes
Were like pressed flowers all whispering up
From the pages of my diary
You took my words with you
To write again is to
Understand the gravity of your existence
Measuring up to the atoms of this
Meaning-contributing-substance
I run a second too late
To know your heart best
When I just lost it
Gathering particles of you
From the strands of my hair
To the outermost layers of epidermis
Reality collides into the window
Leaving pain without depths
Like a calamity saying;
“Take this! The specks of me!
Do not forget the way my feet dance to the rhythm
Of your heartbeat.”
- - -
A crime scene rough draft is the truer thing
To call heart…
