Its Been Too Long

I'm whispering about you to my canvas. hundreds of miles away and your image is still so crisp in my mind's eye; my lips are still glossed with your kiss. I can taste your skin and I crave more.
It pains me to believe you're doing ok without me, although I want you to be ok, I want you to be amazing... you are amazing, and damn me for thinking you could be anything less.
I convince myself daily that I stay on your mind, although the devil tells me otherwise, but he knows nothing of love. But what do I know of love? years of intermingled stories and I'm still prone to question even though the words escape your burning lips daily, but what good are words? Words fail and actions fail even more often than these attempts at words. So much said without words... this is what keeps you floating through my memory, and when I tried to rescue you my boat simply sprung a leak. For that I am sorry, because my tongue stays on fire with your story (our story) and your name gets stuck in my mouth like taffy... so sweet, but so hard to swallow, and its not my place to carry your treasures around. The tables have surely turned, after all it was you who chased after me, and I was unrelentingly strong... fearless. Now I'm reduced to a begging fool at your feet. "I'm racking my brain trying to understand how with little to no effort you have got me eating from the palm of your hand"... the words of your favorite killer... or was that killer me in disguise. I'm praying those movies in your mind are the same as the short films I've collaborated in mine, and I beg existence for a chance to taste you again. Tonight I will fall asleep without the comfort of your breathing, without the steady beating of your heart adjusting itself to mine, without the flavor of your skin moistening my lips, without your ecstasy burning through my veins, but your crisp image will help me cry myself to sleep, and your love will help me dry the tears.
Although I'm undeserving you have always been my biggest fan, and I am forever yours. I love you.
Sleep with the angels tonight, then hurry to my arms where I can paint the story with rainbows and butterflies, and when the rain comes back... I'll buy us an umbrella.

Reviews

[Hedra Helix]

I agree with her;)

this upon third read is still so dope!

[Ananke]

Damn! this conveys so many emotions and I love the use of metaphor.
"I convince myself daily that I stay on your mind, although the devil tells me otherwise, but he knows nothing of love." - This describes something I've felt to well, and it makes me wonder if the devil is the only one cruel enough to tell me the truth when I've convinced myself otherwise.
This is my favorite line-
"For that I am sorry, because my tongue stays on fire with your story (our story) and your name gets stuck in my mouth like taffy... so sweet, but so hard to swallow, and its not my place to carry your treasures around."

[Tiffany Pochatko]

You are at your best when the emotion is raw, fresh, intense. This is the most real thing you have ever written.

[Hedra Helix]

darlin this suckers great, here I spelling edited for you. feel special, I dont even do that for my own s**t;)


I'm whispering about you to my canvas. hundreds of miles away and your image is still so crisp in my mind's eye; my lips are still glossed with your kiss. I can taste your skin and I crave more.
It pains me to believe you're doing ok without me, although I want you to be ok, I want you to be amazing... you are amazing, and damn me for thinking you could be anything less.
I convince myself daily that I stay on your mind, although the devil tells me otherwise, but he knows nothing of love. But what do I know of love? years of intermingled stories and I'm still prone to question even though the words escape your burning lips daily, but what good are words? Words fail and actions fail even more often than these attempts at words. So much said without words... this is what keeps you floating through my memory, and when I tried to rescue you my boat simply sprung a leak. For that I am sorry, because my tongue stays on fire with your story (our story) and your name gets stuck in my mouth like taffy... so sweet, but so hard to swallow, and its not my place to carry your treasures around. The tables have surely turned, after all it was you who chased after me, and I was unrelentingly strong... fearless. Now I'm reduced to a begging fool at your feet. "I'm racking my brain trying to understand how with little to no effort you have got me eating from the palm of your hand"... the words of your favorite killer... or was that killer me in disguise. I'm praying those movies in your mind are the same as the short films I've collaborated in mine, and I beg existence for a chance to taste you again. Tonight I will fall asleep without the comfort of your breathing, without the steady beating of your heart adjusting itself to mine, without the flavor of your skin moistening my lips, without your ecstasy burning through my veins, but your crisp image will help me cry myself to sleep, and your love will help me dry the tears.
Although I'm undeserving you have always been my biggest fan, and I am forever yours. I love you.
Sleep with the angels tonight, then hurry to my arms where I can paint the story with rainbows and butterflies, and when the rain comes back... I'll buy us an umbrella.