6/1/2014

I have yet to rid myself of the sneaker tan lines the black and white ground gave me every day after school, but I've slept in smoke every night I had a curfew and although the majority of the laughs and text messages I receive leave for bigger lives and expensive scenery tomorrow, I think I'll be content.

I've had a long running with the sunset and every time I beg him to stay a little longer he throws another teasing smile and shuts the door lightly, promising he'll be back for the 8:00 showing in the evening.
I've told him every joke I could think of and every promising hope I could muster, but he still finds himself lost in colors I will never touch. I think he likes to be chased into the horizon and I'll keep letting my eyes play his favorite game because love was never about setting someone free.

I was told you can't hide beneath dreams but that's the only place they've never found me. And I look up at the shape shifting clouds solely to get away from the filing cabinets you built in middle of the street. It was a Wednesday when it rained and it was a Monday when it poured but that week never had enough sun for a rainbow.

Scratches were carved into cave walls so we would remember who they were; I wear the scrawlings on a chain around my neck to remember why they wanted to be remembered. Isn't that all we're begging the moon for anyways? A one night stand that lasts?