Confessions

You asked

“Do you still look for him when you’re with me?”

I wonder how do I split a lie out of the truth?

How do I pretend that my eyes didn’t just whisper his name?

How do I convince my tongue to say I only want you?

Advertisements

Death isn’t the end

We always come back.

In the night breeze that kisses your skin.

In the trees that grow a little taller than the rest.

The songs that catch our hearts before our attention.

In every child that looks at us in bewilderment.

In the flowers that know the true powers of the sun.

Amongst the crickets and sounds of moving cars.

We always come back.