Capture Me

Pictures capturing
imaginary moments
we almost spent
and I wonder
if you picture them
through time’s hazy goggles,
your eyes glossed over
with wished for events
and desired memories.
Your fingers move up the frets,
the strings vibrating your pain,
releasing the agony
trapped in your soul.
I see pieces
falling through lyrics
you think speak for you,
of beach nights
where sunsets lasted
until morning,
never-ending walks
with sand on your toes
and salty lips
kissing in the desperation
of imminent losing.
My pictures
are your pictures
but we can’t seem
to find the thread
that pulls me back to you.


This poem seems mixed up, but it’s how I’m feeling, what I’m thinking. Whenever I hear his music, I can’t help but see him instead of the artist, feel him instead of the notes. He uses lyrics like I write poetry–to feel, to express, to love without telling. I miss him today…every day.  No solace but in words but still no satisfaction. Thanks, dear readers, for always listening to a girl who knows nothing and can’t stop longing for pieces she’s lost.




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