Untitled

I think maybe if you loved me half as much as I love you,
We could wish we were older,
At least old enough to run away together.

But you don't, so take my hand for now,
and lace your fingers in mine,
even if it's not right,
how it feels,
it could still be a comfort.

I guess I'm just a fly on your wall,
the kind you just watch and hope it goes away,
this time,
though,
it has a name.

When I was little,
I used to dream.
Dream of these fields of wildflowers with yellow petals,
there,
among the dragonflies I'd rove.

Now,
as I think of how innocent that dream was,
I imagine it again, but,
this time,
It holds you there.

We just stand,
in th middle of God's creation,
wondering if we will ever find our place in this forsaken world,
one day,
maybe not.

I guess I always think that maybe we already have obtained,
that purpose,
that maybe that's how God wanted it to be.

Sometimes I like to think you are my purpose,
in life,
and all you need is a little time to realize it.

But now,
as we stand with our fingers laced,
I look into your deep eyes full of concern,
and see life.

Not the kind of life that everyone discusses,
not babies,
or grass,
but more sun-like life.

It's like the light that always appears after a moonless night,
the brightest kind imaginable,
the kind we can't understand.

That gave me hope for today.
Enough hope to make me spin around in my room and hope to see you again.

I broke after that,
because,
I realized that the hand I held was cold,
it held departure.

Then,
you left me,
but it wouldn't be the first itme,
or the last;
hope,
because your smile means the world to me.

Faith might be all I have left now.