to you

to the boy with the honey-drenched words,

i'll always remember the oceans of your eyes - the receding shorelines, the blue ecstasy of sky,  being washed away miles upon miles into the quiet distance.  there was a kind of sadness imbued in them- the blues, the greens, the greys- the kind of sadness i understood; inside and out.  i ached for you, i wanted to hold your shivering self and gently press my fingers against the craters of your spinal arches, swallow the coldness of your lungs and hold your breakable self together.  

i wanted to be there for you when no one else was.  

but all i know now is that i'll always miss your soft june mornings and the honey of your sunrise, our moon conversations and the knowing in your eyes.  you were the summer breeze pushing me into fall and holding me through the winter, i found solace in you, and i've grown to love you more than i have ever before.   

do you know what it feels like? when dusk sinks in and heaviness grasps the hems of my soul and suddenly i am thirty days worth of memories 

seastorms breaking in my bones, and i am dust again.  i remember the cold droplets of rain bleeding into my veins, winter burning into the sides of my cheeks, the loneliest i've ever been.  sometimes i don't even remember the concept of breathing, but maybe you're not supposed to until you've understood what absence feels like.  i hope you know that i'll always keep our words in paper crescent moons and i am writing this to you with the inches of ink i managed to drain from the lasts of our midnights you still had in your veins 

for all i know now is that you aren't, and you won't be.  

you will only be the skies and stars of another day, of another night, of another time.  

from the girl who remembers everything