Seasons Spent Alone



Those ex-lovers, how they dance in the darkness down every lonely street we ever walked. Those tight bodies, how they shower in cold sunlight with a complete lack of something I can never put my finger on. She once told me how she pondered taking her life in the early hours at the foot of a tree. How some tabby cat came and sat with her while she tried so hard to keep her mind from unraveling. I picture her now surrounded by wet leaves and shadows. I taste the scent of her hair so alone and lacking intent; the fear in her eyes beneath a callous moon, slipping into misery with no one around to help. People change, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. Loss can make you come undone, but only if you let it. The trouble is, it changes you invisibly, and you only find out when it’s too late. Flesh eases the boredom; it breaks up the days when the struggle for meaning gets too much. But it’s all so useless. The games we play- all of them so unutterably dull. Don’t live to impress others, live to experience how beautiful a thing it is not to be dead. If the stars in the sky shine above your head, and the blade’s nowhere near your throat, then you’re living a charmed existence. Don’t let them stain you. Stay strong and be the girl you deserve to be. History is empty. They never gave me a chance, but I’m still writing, and even though I’m so much older, the hunger remains. So many wasted days. So many pictures of so many dreadful fucking mistakes, and yet the beauty of innocence has never been lost. Strip naked and stand before the midnight sun; be who you want to be and never listen to a single word that didn’t make you want to break down and cry. These days of unseen sadness. These seasons spent alone with paths yet to be walked. Footsteps in the grass as you wait for the lips of another to set you free so delirious as you shimmer in my drunken haze. So many yesterdays I can never make up for. So many goodbyes with no one else to blame. But my heart still burns; it still yearns for what can never be bought. Keep me close as I struggle. I’m not much of a lover, but I’ll always be your man.

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