Harmonious walks down memory lane cause comfort in a foreign land. It brings familiarity to a place surrounded with mundane routines and moments without you. Allowing my mind to wander down a lane where memories bring me back to you I'm elated to fall asleep. Just so that I may dream of you in a way my imagination has yet to conjure.
I wish you were a Starbucks drink so people can experience what saying your name constantly feels like.
Lifted away; dancing in the mirror; wrapped up in the melody of your words I've danced on our memory with no love lost respect gained cliche verbiage to display my uncanny emotions of missing you
Swaying to the melodic sounds your smile brings to my memories. I stand in the mirror singing love songs transcribed by King Solomon himself. I reach out hoping you're standing in front of your mirror reaching for me. Dancing our unorthodox two step
Dancing... The mirror reached back. This time with broken pieces of the once perfectly collaged scene. I snatched my hand back reluctantly to nurse the cuts. I still loved the blood of their pain because your memory couldn't tear me away from loving you
Instantaneously my wounds become reminders of our love. Charred mirror pieces reflect the memories I've grown to love as my present. Though we are no longer, I stand in front of the mirror praying my reflection has transcended universal norms and you can see me reaching out for you. Reaching out for something familiar. Reaching out just so you know I remember your greatness, and I'm always going to want to walk down memory lane.
Such a dangerous path I admit I easily get warped into these redundant travels realizing only I can deliver me from this mental four dimensional floor plan of hurt. I have to...
I left the glass broken. Only a fool would continue to bruise with that which they can't fix. Fixing your memory to be cognizant of our history was never a meal on the menu. I ate off this unset table waiting for the utensils to come to order
Hoping our waitress will serve our past as our presence. We are A sweet memory only the reflections in our pupils understand.
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