I write a lot. I write stories, poems too. and lately, they've had a lot to do with you. I won't go into the bad stuff. no, this time it's about the good. I think it's time to get it off my mind. I used to hate blue eyes. I never knew why - I just did one day. but then I met you, and your eyes were a different shade of blue — not just turquoise, or the open sky, but the quiet of your voice, and the beauty of your lie. it was a color I could lose myself in, a soft, familiar place to fall. even knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t change a thing at all. because for a moment, the world was quiet, and the blue didn't feel so cold. but all stories reach an ending, and some poems are better left untold. but that's going down again, so let me go back up. back to the place where we laughed, and shared, where you told me you cared. I can feel the grass beneath me, I can smell the river near me, I can hear your voice, enchanting, and see your smile slanting. you looked so genuine. but some people just have that gift - beautiful deception. "I promise." that's what you said. "I promise." and it felt good to believe you, it really did. but it wasn't true. and so... here we are. I’ll trace the good lines we left behind, for words are fleeting, born to die, but your memory is a monument in my mind.
I guess this is a final theme now. more to come. a draft I didn't use: so I'll remember the good, because words and writing are temporary, and the memory of you is legendary.
