And I thought, things were always what they appeared to be:
Black or white, never inbetween.
But then the rose has torns and the clouds have different shades when the weather changes...
Grey skies when it's overcast; blue skies and clouds of white on a bright, sunny day.
I always thought, 'complicated' was a rarity.
He said, She said... and what was innocent and pure...
now tainted and forgotten.
He said, She said.
Blurred lines, new scenery... yesterday, a distant memory.
I wish I could... but...
It's complicated is the reality
Of two hearts that once beat to the same tune;
a rhythm that unified souls for life.
A vibration - a pulsating energy that ignited the flame... a fire burning...
Resonating deep within...
An outed passion, no longer alit.
I wish I could...
Too many broken pieces to mend
Each piece has its story.
Blurred lines...
He said, She said - it was only a matter of time.
But time was elusive and the grains of sand in the hour glass kept flowing...
Down... Down... Down...
She said, "I remember... you used to... but no more"
He said, "I remember when you... me... we..."
"We" sounds so French.
He whispered words into my ears, words that filtered through my being, words that made an imprint on my heart and I was his for life.
She, from the first moment our eyes locked, she became the subject, the title, the story of my dreams. She was every waking breath; she was life itself. She was my core.
These dreams so vague, so inexistent, so few...
He, She... no words.
Bit by Bit, every line, erased.
It never was.
Written By: Rachael N. Collymore
© 2013
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