Saturday, October 27, 2012

{Till human voices wake us, and we drown.}


For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
     So how should I presume?

- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
T.S Eliot


It's cold here, and I barely know where here is. Stuck in between the moments of reality, yet passing through time so fast everything's caught up in the blur. And then you stand out. Of all people, you. Time seems to stop when I look at you, and you look at me, and you look away. You walk away, and I see you walk in the midst of the blur that everything else is. You walk and they rush. This feels familiar. I've been here before.

I see her hate and her disgust. And who can blame her? But where is the her I used to know? She's a black figure in the shades of grey. She grows white along the edges. Does that mean it's too late for us?

Pops of color jump out at me. And they ground me. I'm greedy. I want more color. And then they're gone just as fast as they came. And you're still there, walking away. You want to go somewhere, a place where I don't exist as your light. In my world you're the only thing that doesn't go away, and I don't want you to leave. But you're not my light, are you?

And then there's a light. My light. But now, it doesn't feel right. I pray this is a passing feeling. The light envelops everything else, and I know who it is. Everything seems to fade away and yet, you're still there. And now you're gone, because you were never meant to stay. I know you. I want to.

The light stays and I know it's right, even if I don't feel it now. The feeling will come back. It is everything I should ever need.

But you come into my dreams, and fill my heart to the seams.

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