I am the girl who begins again,
after the credits roll,
fixed between the beginning of a soul,
and the end of sentences and words,
years and years old.
could it all just blend together,
like seasons slipping through our fingers…
I was your girl, made up of tangled letters and rusted ink,
staining your lips and the skin ‘round your skull,
going wherever it is that you’d go,
filling your heart ’til it was ten times as full.
your skin was the shoreline I swam along,
your veins were the lifelines that tugged me along,
at which curve did I go wrong?
could we just blend together,
like the seasons of California’s weather?
(images found on https://www.tumblr.com)
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