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Posted: February 4, 2017, 7:11 PM
They say the grass is greener on the other side
But I'm convinced My grass is greener Beneath your feet as we stand alongside one another. We play beside the river Current swirling and foaming A dangerous game One which I could never win. I don't remember the day that I tumbled in The river cooling and comforting to my burning skin All I remember was the way you looked at me As I fell back into the current And let it carry me from the shore. For two weeks I bathed Drifting carefree as the crows circling above Believing I was safest in the river Hidden from the pain I left at the surface. Once again I find myself on land Pulled from the river, saved Realizing just before drowning That I had ventured too deep. Yet still I am lost Wandering beside the river Watching it froth and bubble Afraid to slip in once more. I returned to where I had left you on the bank I called your name Listened to it echo And prayed you had not been taken by the river as well. That night I watched the stars Recalling how they appeared in my memories Impossibly beautiful Yet somehow less brilliant than your open heart Impossibly close And still I grasped your open hand. Dawn approached And one after the other the stars faded to day Sick without sleep I sat paralyzed by the river Craving your return. Days passed And I realized that the grass was no longer green I began to walk alone alongside the shore As the air grew cold and the leaves turned brown. One morning I realized Chest tight and eyes sparkling That I had no recollection Of which side I had crawled grasping from the water. Dry once more I wished not for the river But for the soft grass, fragrant and young We had once shared underfoot. I dreamt of a bridge One I might find Had heard of in stories And hoped to be real. I doubted it's existence Unsure which way to travel Yet something inside Begged me to continue. I walk beside the river now Sometimes looking in But mostly looking forward Eager that I might catch glimpse of the bridge. Spring approaches Beginnings promised in the budding trees Each day a bit brighter Each blade underfoot growing softer. I try to be satisfied But still I imagine there is nothing quite so green As the grass beneath your feet As I cross the bridge towards you. -An original poem, 2/4/2017. For all those who have lost themselves and those they love to xanax abuse. | ||
Posts: 1764
Joined: June 27, 2016
Posted: February 6, 2017, 10:44 AM
Beautiful.
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Posted: March 12, 2017, 12:28 PM
Amazing and Beautifully put- ThankYou for sharing
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