Moonlight peeks through my curtains: I think she's trying to remind me of something. It's kind of like that day on your calendar that you starred or circled a while back, but now that it's here you can't remember why you marked it.
Normally her rays would be welcome in my room, but tonight she's just rather cold and grey. It brings an undesirably familiar taste to my mouth. Not a bad taste, just a memory-loaded one. The memories are a bit too pleasant.
I cuddle more deeply into my covers and try to ignore her. What can she do, really? She can't force me into remembering anything! She doesn't even have her own light to give, it's all just borrowed from the sun. Cheap, borrowed beauty...
I was in love with the moon, once. But then again, I suppose that was when the moon loved me.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Beating Heart and Lullaby
Here, my dear,
I lay you down with a lullaby
And ask it to send you to sweetest dreams.
I want them to carry into your tomorrow,
To bless your day with hope
And with safety.
As I hold you close
The memories we've made seem like dreams:
Tangibly unreal and beautifully imperfect.
They're knocking at the bedroom door,
Slipping beneath it and into the seams of our lullaby.
There is peace here,
Peace made specially for you and I.
Your heart keeps rhythm for me,
More a feeling than a sound.
It's beats are beyond precious:
They tie me to the world and give proof of your life.
They are proof that dreams are reality
And that maybe reality lies tucked within our dreams.
Here, my dear.
Here I am drowning in dreams,
Immersed in lullaby and memory as it slips under the door.
Here I settle into the unfounded hope that this,
This dream and this night,
Will never have to pass.
The notion that You and I,
Beating heart and Lullaby,
Can stay like this forever.
I lay you down with a lullaby
And ask it to send you to sweetest dreams.
I want them to carry into your tomorrow,
To bless your day with hope
And with safety.
As I hold you close
The memories we've made seem like dreams:
Tangibly unreal and beautifully imperfect.
They're knocking at the bedroom door,
Slipping beneath it and into the seams of our lullaby.
There is peace here,
Peace made specially for you and I.
Your heart keeps rhythm for me,
More a feeling than a sound.
It's beats are beyond precious:
They tie me to the world and give proof of your life.
They are proof that dreams are reality
And that maybe reality lies tucked within our dreams.
Here, my dear.
Here I am drowning in dreams,
Immersed in lullaby and memory as it slips under the door.
Here I settle into the unfounded hope that this,
This dream and this night,
Will never have to pass.
The notion that You and I,
Beating heart and Lullaby,
Can stay like this forever.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
As I Sit In Science Class
As I sit in science class
Laughing at the galaxy
My professor makes the dullest things
Seem so completely interesting
It's nice to feel like I am smart
Like I can understand
The thousands of discoveries
That till now've been made by man
Laughing at the galaxy
My professor makes the dullest things
Seem so completely interesting
It's nice to feel like I am smart
Like I can understand
The thousands of discoveries
That till now've been made by man
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