Chillyjilly23

His dimpled cheeks, carved like a candle's wick, speak of decades; and somewhere in the hallway I can feel my grandfather's ghost slip off the canvas. You look like him she says - that Roman nose off fighting wars in places we can't pronounce and your clipped jawline announcing places like long lost family. I bet you wear a jacket like him, shoulders crisp as the new world and focused like a poet on the future. I'll bet you even smell like him - leather warm and humid, and the apple tint of music left on your sleeves.

i am sitting with rumpled pieces of paper and my hands stained with ink, as if blood has turned indigo, wringing your name like a paltry confession. and i feel as pathetic as you think i am, i feel as though i could walk across the ocean with salt making my lips sting and i could travel for miles just to get to you, and you would be standing on the other side with empty eyes and you're asking, "why have you come?" and, somehow, you're bigger than me, somehow, you're a giant and i'm forced to look up at you and admit —i don't know. i have lost my footing. the sky is the earth, my head is underwater and hair dancing with seaweed. i am dro