literature

For the One I stopped Writing for

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Literature Text

My fingers trail after the ghost of you
Memory pretty boy with your pretty words
Spinning beautiful mindscapes in my universe.

I want to breath you in
All the intricacies that make you human
And inhale your hurt, that I may unburden your being.

Pretty xylophone magic that ignites
A joy that almost aches
Because you are always slipping away.

My fingers trail after the ghost of you
Memory pretty boy with your pretty eyes
That see it all the way I want it all.

I want to convince you to run with me
But I’m tired of running and I've been for a while now,
You are full with a dream I can no longer chase.

Pretty wind chime symphony that carries you further
With the spring breeze that warms me, trailing my smiling cheeks
Is the ghost of your memory fingers.
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