When It's Late and Ideas Don't Come but This Does

I don't mind the chill, honestly I don't, I just need to hear you make sounds sweetly as I flail around freely with deliberate intent, planned as one isn't to be had. You're like a banjo string and he's your bow and sometimes other strings get played but you, I wish so greatly to inform you, produce the sweetest melody and I wish so bad I could tell you that, to tune you and hear you bend to understand but I can’t. 

The skin, the sound in this place where your voice resonates provides for those who need it more than I, although that’s not true because I can convince myself of anything. Don’t let me grip your neck as we glide through this, dissipating as i watch you travel. 

let me write about you

Let me write about you.

Let my mind that won't shut up hold its tongue as your presence provides an escape I must apologize for. 

Remain silent, hum softly, be, and let me write about you. 

Let my muse borrow yours for a while and watch as they run off to go do something i can't imagine but feel physically so vividly as the power to be more than in the precise moment escapes both of us. 

Literally i beg you let me fill my head with air and scrawl my treasured nothings upon the yellowed paper dredged up from a basket of professionalism. 

Can I hum along too because i rather like the song that swirls around your mind. (And when I do get around to writing about you I promise that I will let you peek, but I don't want to because then I think you'll want yourself back.)

different

Something feels different and i don't like it ---

i don't like that the sameness feels different.

i don't like that i know that the sameness feels different, 

different than the actual different which is me shoving you out of a chair in the middle of the night, spinning around, tripping over stuff we dropped wherever we felt with a pillow draped over my head while wondering how horses sleep that way. 

It's different than hearing you read things i adore that make me smile weirdly like every character of so many books that i hate, hanging onto every syllable that you let slip forth from wherever it is you get those words. 

This difference hurts because it's not sameness no matter how much i want it to fit the label of that weird clump of letters, because i'm too damn scared to see if it will, so i'll just let it exist as it has and hope that when i'm ready to peel that sticker it'll stick.