curling clouds of thought

Floundering thoughts. We are fixed on our destinations, minds set in opposite paths. I am sculpted from the remembering and morsels of hope that I keep tucked around and under. Hoped for musical symphonies of together, for a sweet stride of romance and that there would be a desire to keep me. I am free, the tumbling gurggle of water fills my ears and I could float away if I wanted. We have built and destroyed many frames and fragments of forever. The soft strands of the beginnings are gone and now time has laid her hands and wrote us a story. Brittle, I can’t help but feel the cracks, the molten wax that fixed us. Yet I force your hand again, asking when you will see me as more than in tomorrow or today. It’s different, you don’t know the challenge of being when someones leaving or gives you away. The strength that comes when I realize I need to survive and that people don’t do what they say. I watch as the seconds clip me down, whittle charges of a flame down to spark spittle. Replaceable, I imagine I am, that the walls are thin and breakable and that my actions have impacted but lacked the velocity to wake your heart. While I am partially numbed, the colors move through, rice paper layers tribulate the things I see moving, the curling clouds of thought. Now I wonder if I had hoped for too much, that the childhood vision corrupt, love’s not enough. Friendship grows and we heal the deep wounds that crept lucid into daydream dances. I forgave the false romances and how you lied with a smile. I fabricated your arms around my waist and the tail of your tongue giving a promise and taking my hand. It’s alright. I can sympathisize, but you’ll make the right time, with the right one.