I Wrote in Blood | Still Corners

We are the remnants of the past,

The lingering reminder that,

There was an end,

But we faded into the present.

And here we are stuck in a time,

Where love was wasted at the starting line,

Excess anger and frustration,

Permeate in the air,

Spreading the right things thin.

How did we get here?

When it used to be honest,

And the effort painted everything in,

We used to be on the right track,

Of separating the strength and the weakness.

I used to believe in our attempts,

But they litter the floor,

With a lost cause,

That keeps rushing out of the door,

Along with you,

Along with you and our love.

needleinthehaywritingcomp:

Got a new award up on the site. 400 words, $100 first prize. http://needleinthehay.net/the-our-motives-are-benign-award/

I bet you there are still shadows,

Still landing on your side of town,

Dancing in the moonlight,

And praising you for leaving when you did.

As the sun rises you stay away,

Afraid of who you could see,

Everything did change,

When you left that day,

But we still sing your name,

Maybe because we now have a common enemy,

Or just miss who you used to be.

We crossed out the words that didn’t mean much,

And held on to the easiest form of retreat,

Just as you did,

And I count the days,

When the dust settles,

And i forget about the what could bes,

Settling into the evening with you,

Watching shadows dance around the blacks and blues,

Of the night,

Singing your name,

the worst kind of game,

Because i get stuck at the start,

And i always lose.

only in your name is a fire that,

Sinks into my lungs,

And it stays there for forty days.

And after all that time has passed,

The ash has built itself high up to the sky,

Where the wind sweeps it over my heart,

And across the lands i used to call home.

I remember the river that used to flow,

Every so often we used to go there,

We sat and we talked and,

We exchanged the darkness in our lungs,

For safety and light.

I heard the silence drip over my heartbeat,

I promised to believe even when the fire,

No longer lent us the heat that kept us warm at night.

We used to remember,

Now we forget,

After those forty days,

When the ash starts to collect,

You don’t speak to me,

Until you need me again,

And that’s worse of all,

Because i still pretend,

These lands are your home too.