Postmark stranded

I promised you
Flowers by the moonlight
Something alive
Breathing
Something loved
Needing Oxygen
The way i needed you
Needing water
You are cocooned
Within this soil
Lovers trudge by in dirty
working man boots
and timberlands
Just to tell stories
Journal the days of the living
To those whose
Ears have slept
I miss the laughter
that bubbled from you
before the wine would come
Filling the room
Like a ghost
claiming glares like a gossip
Your laugh was a postcard
Of where we were
Our stamp
First class
Royal air
I am deciphering
my grief
Scared to embrace it
That it will morph and become me
Such a greedy
wholesome thing
Like a baby suckling
At your breast
Claiming buds of milk
I am only 3 months
into this cycle
By the moonlight
The ghosts of other peoples
tears
and snatches of their conversation
piercing my eardrums
It is like being at sea
With a tempest
Like an angry Horizon
It is like being on
an Island
with no boat
My eyes are wild orbs
From lack of sleep
I grow restless in my
own company
pacing the brackets
Of the limitations i set
I miss most the scent of you
Like a burning incense
Making my whole body shiver
The talks into a purple night
as my complexion would pale
For you were somewhat
extraordinary
Where are you now
My extraordinary love
For i am stranded here

we remember

Missing people
Missing place
Missing knowledge
Missing face
Missing smile
A kite to worlds
A day was claimed
Missing scents
And missing smells
Missing laughs
Blown straight to he'll
The platoon
We dock
We wait
We sist
We watch
How clocks
And time persist
Busy wardrobes
Lazy clothes
Weeping pain
And cardboard
Bones
Missing people
Missing pain
We wonder
If selves
Get reborn again

The foreigners of friendship: getting past loosing a friend

Missing someone can be more than painful, that ache of longing, the conversations you wished you had. Missing your best friend is the strangest thing, their there, but their not still there and if your a sensitive soul you feel their presence everywhere. Last night I had a dream about my best friend I was upstairs and the phone rang, it was the old cream phone we had in the living room. I heard a soft voice down the other end of the line, it was vulnerable and innocent just the way she had been, we talked briefly and made plans to meet up and discu

ss.

The hardest thing in life is letting people go their presence haunts you, you remember stupid things like the way they laughed, the sparkle in their eye, but most of all who you were at about that time. The happy self, an infinite self, a joyous self, but time changes and life changes us.

There will be days when you feel nostalgic, days when you miss them so much it may hurt, but time is a great healer. We move on and allow new people into our lives, and we learn to create our own happiness.