Today I listened to our songs
it felt like touching the heartbeat
of my friends from a distance

My mister,
Through bliss and hurt don't we miss her?
Her hair- silky mist
Her eyes- dreary mission wishes
her tears, it seemed, had fallen before the march,
before this hardship.
You carried that torch forever
No one cared but her.
And now such is blurred earth
Until you've become snuffed, wouldn't you be glad to be set fire to?
Starry eyes agaze to a blaze of new desire too
Much higher
High enough.

Your eyes met hers after having traveled distant countries and having seen different shores

'do you know her?' friends ask.

And you recall her once taking you to a parking lot under the moon to listen to music in the car.
You think of the time she decided to walk you to the shops in the budding storm.

You think of how odd she was,
How you have always been intrigued by it,
How much you loved her.

But she is a headfuck
and you wanted to get away before you could get messed up.
Before SHE could mess you up.

'used to' you tell them.

Yellow journal
Aged in fondness
Worn by the weight  of powerful words
Forgotten upon the shelf
Neglected despite your cheery shade
An artist leaves a piece of themselves within their art
A fateful discovery
Thats exactly what you are
Beaten up, broken,
torn weathered-
By years of dry land and drought of inspiration
Made alive by Christ
And awake in its pages
Your cover is worn
Your pictures dilapidate
But once you open up
Magic careens
Unveiled under your dusty pages is joy
Romance
Poetic trances
Art of divine nature
That is exactly what you are
Worn yet beautiful
Aged and reminiscent
Evoking fond warmth
You are the yellow journal
Beloved yellow journal

Take me back to the beginning
In love with everything and everyone
Living with my soul thrown into the wind
Slurring my words over the phone
Sleeping with nature
And kissing flowers
Breathing clean and clear
It was easier then
More peaceful then
Counting stars until they turned into clouds
Outrunning due dates
Take me there